Fire in the Twilight
by jenben
Summary: Very Danielcentric. Daniel loses his memory, which he needs to help save Sam and Teal'C. Action, Adventure, Angst set early season 2.
1. Up a Creek

A/N: I'm pretty excited about this story. Sam and Teal'C are taken. Danny loses his memory. Things kind of spiral down from there. It'll be a bit long, but there's plenty of action and angst. I hope you enjoy it. Please be aware that this story takes place early season two. My sincerest thanks to Carmen Carter, whose ST book, _Dreams of the Raven_ inspired me. –your humble author.

Fire in the Twilight

_Doozey of a step_, Jack thought as he fell a hundred feet into the river. Daniel hit the water first (having been pushed off the cliff by Jack) and was whisked away in the fast moving current. Almost as fast as the day's activities had led them to that point.

Only five minutes ago, Jack had been walking the perimeter of some ancient rock Daniel was studying. A call from Carter on the radio changed that.

"Sir, we're being attacked by some natives!" she yelled. Jack could hear the attack over the radio. "They have some unusually sophisticated—" She was cut off and Jack instantly assumed the worst.

He ran back to Daniel who was immersed in his study of the rock. "We've got a problem."

"Huh? Jack, I'm so glad you're back! I think we're in a lot of danger on this planet. I was reading this," he said, pointing to a section of the stone, "and you're never gonna believe what's happened here."

"That doesn't matter now. Carter and Teal'C were neutralized. We have no contact."

Daniel's eyes widened, then closed. He looked like someone who had made a horrible mistake. "Oh, no! I should have contacted you sooner, but I wasn't sure. I think I might know what's going on here, and it's _big_. Listen, when we—" Before he could explain his revelation, a strange looking projectile flew by his head and into a tree, leaving a smoking hole about the size of a bowling ball. Danny paled considerably and stood frozen until Jack grabbed his arm and pulled. Things went down hill from there.

They ran until they hit the edge of the cliff where they were working. They had nowhere to go but down.

"There was a river by the Stargate, right?"

"Yes," Daniel answered, then paused. "You're not actually considering jumping down there, are you? That's suicide, Jack!"

The colonel didn't think about it for very long. They had moved south from the gate and rivers run north—at least, on Earth. To save themselves and Carter and Teal'C, they needed to get back to Earth. "It's our only chance, Daniel."

"We can't just leave! We can't leave Sam and Teal'C here. Not to mention that there is no way I can jump off this cliff!"

"Then I'm really sorry," Jack muttered as he shoved the younger man over the edge and quickly followed. Each landed with a splash and was quickly taken by the current.

"Daniel?" he shouted as they raced down the river.

"Yeah!" He was some fifteen feet ahead of Jack and out of control. All his time in the desert hadn't lent itself to his swimming skills. As Jack watched helplessly, Daniel's head went one-on-one with a large rock sticking out of the water. The rock won and Daniel went limp.

Jack swam hard to reach his archeologist, grabbing an arm just before Danny hit another rock. "I'll be damned if I'm gonna lose another member of this team," he swore. With considerable effort, he moved them toward the bank and onto shore by the Stargate. Unconscious but breathing, Daniel was not a pretty sight. A large gash stood out on the side of his head, streaming blood.

"You don't do anything half ass, do you?" Jack asked as he heaved the other man onto a shoulder and started towards the gate. He _would_ be coming back for Sam and Teal'C.

* * *

"What happened, Colonel?" the general demanded as soon as they stepped through the gate. Coming back early was bad. Coming back minus two members and with the third unconscious was cause for a stiff drink. 

Before answering, Jack placed Daniel on a stretcher Dr. Fraiser already had waiting. He'd barely removed his hands from underneath the younger man when they started moving him to the infirmary.

"You're next," Fraiser yelled before she left and between giving orders for Daniel's care.

O'Neill turned his attention to Hammond. "I'm not quite sure, sir. Carter and Teal'C were surveying the soil while Daniel looked over some archeological…thing. I was with him when we got a call on the radio; Carter and Teal'C were being attacked. They came after Daniel and me but we got back to the Stargate. Sir, request permission to retrieve my people."

"Not right now, son. You are not going back alone and I want some more information before I send anyone to that planet. If you don't feel injured, come debrief in my office and then you'll go to the infirmary. We'll work on getting another team ready to accompany you."

He followed Hammond to the general's office and fell into a chair. Odd how things could go so incredibly wrong in such a short amount of time. Odd, also, how that seemed to be SG1's MO.

Jack finally noticed that General Hammond was waiting for him, so he started at the beginning. "We got to P3X-772 and split up to cover more territory. Teal'C and Carter left to get soil samples since the MALP detected naquada. I went with Daniel to some ancient statue so he could figure out the culture. After an hour, I got a call from Carter telling me they were under attack. We lost communications so I went to get Daniel and before he could tell me what he knew, we got attacked ourselves. We jumped in the river, he hit his head, I got us back to the gate, and here we are."

"Did Dr. Jackson know why you were attacked?"

"He was about to tell me what was happening when we started getting shot at. Whatever it was excited the hell out of him. Before I go back, I want to know what he has to say. It's important. Speaking of going back, sir…"

Hammond nodded agreement. "Go see Dr. Fraiser so she can clear you and find out Dr. Jackson's condition. I'll round up SG5, put another MALP through, and as soon as you get Dr. Jackson's revelation, you're good to go."

"Thank you, sir." Jack started to leave but the general stopped him.

"Jack." He paused. "You know they could be dead."

"We've been dead before, General. I'm getting my people back."

* * *

Teal'C and Carter were very alive on P3X-772, merely unconscious. And wounded. Although Teal'C's symbiote was already healing his injuries, Captain Carter was not so fortunate. The hole in her leg made any chance at escape impossible. Teal'C didn't bother to wake her since the pain would have been unbearable. Instead, he fell into Kel-no-reem to assist his recovery and left the questions of "how" and "why" unanswered.

* * *

Daniel lay in the infirmary. An IV ran through his hand, oxygen into his nose, and gauze was taped to his head. Jack sat down next to him. 

"Kind of look like a space _mummy_, now," he muttered, half to himself. He began fingering the oxygen line. "I wonder why everybody who goes into the hospital gets one of these oxygen thingies. It isn't like you can't breathe on your own. Oh, and if you're wondering, I'm fine. Doc said there wasn't a scratch on me."

Jack became silent, then spoke up once more. "Wake up, Danny, we gotta save Teal'C and Carter. Or, I have to save them. You should probably just lie there for a while. But I need you to tell me what you were getting so wired up about." He sighed when nothing happened. "You never were good at obeying orders."

As if in defiance, Daniel began to stir. There was a soft moan followed by the flutter of eyes. Jack called for Fraiser and stood over Daniel. "You okay?"

"My head," he moaned.

"Is he awake?"

Jack looked behind himself to see the doctor fast approaching. "Yeah, but I don't think he wants to be. Is he gonna be okay?"

"He's been unconscious an unusually long time, but our initial tests don't reveal any significant problems. I'll know more in a second. Daniel, can you hear me?"

"Uh-huh."

"What is your full name?"

"Daniel Jackson."

"Do you know where you are?"

"Hospital."

"How did you get hurt, Daniel?"

A moment passed and Daniel looked confused, but the fog lifted. "I fell back and hit my head."

"You fell back?"

"Yes," he affirmed, gaining some clarity. "I was getting ready to teach my class. Then I started to fall and that's the last thing I remember. Am I okay? Am I at a military base hospital?"


	2. History Not Learned

A/N: Thanks so much for you kind and supportive reviews! They are deeply valued. Chapter two explains a bit more what's happened to Daniel and the ramifications. FYI: I took a few artistic liberties with Daniel's background. Please don't be cross about it. And please review; I'd be extremely grateful. –your humble author.

Chapter two: History Not Learned…

Although Jack's jaw had hit the floor, Dr. Frasier seemed calm and apparently unconcerned about the situation. "You're gonna be fine, Daniel. I'll send a nurse with something for your pain and speak to you again shortly. Colonel, would you come with me, please?"

"What is that?" Jack demanded once they were in Janet's office.

"I'm not sure, but we'll know in a minute. Let me take a look at Daniel's records and I'll tell you," she assured him while staring at her computer screen.

A few minutes went by and Janet sat back in her chair. "I have some good news and some bad news, Colonel. The good news is that Daniel knows who he is and can remember much of his past. The bad news is, if I'm correct, he can only remember up to the age of 23; he's forgotten the last seven years."

"How?"

"When he hit his head it must have disrupted that part of his memory. It's extremely rare but possible." When Jack continued to give her a blank look, Janet explained further. "Seven years ago, Daniel Jackson was a graduate assistant working at the Egyptian Institute for Archeology. He collapsed one day in class and was taken to the local hospital where they diagnosed a concussion and held him over night. He was released the next day with no ill effects except a headache. Our Daniel woke up thinking it's seven years ago. It's the only thing that makes sense."

"How do we get him to talk about P3X-772? Is he gonna be able to tell me what he knows?"

Janet took a deep breath. "Daniel may recover his memory in a very short time. It's possible he'll remember everything when we go out there. But until he does, he's not going to know anything about P3X-772. He's not even going to know who Sam or Teal'C are, let alone you, the SGC, or even the Stargate."

"When will he remember?"

"I don't know. The brain is probably the most complex and least understood organ of the body. Amnesia is not a well-researched disorder, especially one like his. The odds are in Daniel's favor; it is most likely his memory will return. But I don't know when or how. It may come all at once or in little bits at a time. I'm sorry, Jack, I wish I could give you more."

The Colonel fell back in his seat, rubbing his eyes. The day was getting longer and longer. It might never end. "All right, I'll go tell the General that Daniel can't remember and find out what to do. Is there anything we _can_ do?"

"It helps sometimes to take the patient around familiar things. It may jog his memory."

"Okay. I'll come back soon. Let me know if he suddenly gets back his senses. This day sucks," he muttered as he left the office.

* * *

Janet walked back out to Daniel's bed. She couldn't lie to him, and there was little she could think of to ease his shock, so she determined to give him the truth and help him work through it. After all, there is little else as disconcerting as amnesia, but Daniel _knew_ who he was and total strangers were going to tell him otherwise. Sure, he was still Daniel Jackson, but with seven years of life changing experiences forgotten.

"I'd like to speak with you."

Daniel looked up in wide-eyed innocence. "Okay."

_Crap_, Janet thought to herself, _this is gonna be so difficult_. "I want to speak with you about the consequences of your fall. Now, you're healthy and all the tests came out normal," she added when he grew concerned. "I'd like you to tell me about what happened. Be as specific as possible."

"I've been doing a lot of work lately; between teaching, research, digs, and writing my dissertation, there hasn't been a lot of time for sleeping and eating. I pulled an all-nighter last night and my last meal was…uh…it was…well, I'm not quite sure. Then I was standing in class when I saw this little black dot on one of my student's faces. It got bigger until it covered his whole head, and it just kept growing until it took up the entire class. Then I passed out. I'm pretty sure I hit my head against the chalk holder because I heard my head crack against something as I fell. It's my own fault; I just get so caught up with whatever I'm doing that everything else passes by me."

Janet nodded slowly. "That did happen; your medical file has a record of that accident. However, that was not the accident that caused you to be here."

"What do you mean?"

"Based on your medical history and what you've told me so far, I believe you have forgotten the past seven years. You have a form of amnesia."

He looked skeptical, then broke out in a grin. "Did Yeslam put you up to this? That guy is awful when it comes to practical jokes. He once convinced his own class he had died."

"I don't know a Yeslam. I _do_ know that you are Dr. Daniel Jackson with the Stargate program in Colorado. And that the year is 1998."

"No it isn't."

Janet came prepared and pulled out the day's newspaper. "The _Denver Free Press_. February 3, 1998. You're not in Egypt, Daniel. You're not a student. You are a civilian working for a secret military program."

Daniel said nothing at first, just stared at the newspaper. "That isn't my life," he said finally. "That's a movie plot. It's something Sylvester Stallone would star in."

Janet sighed. It was not going to be easy to convince Daniel—who felt fine save for a headache—that he had left his mind in the past. Fortunately, Jack chose that minute to return. He gave her an inquisitive look and she shook her head. No, he didn't remember anything. Momentarily leaving a stunned Daniel, Janet went to find out what the General said.

"We're waiting eight hours. If Danny hasn't remembered by then, I'll go alone. Without proof they're dead or alive, he doesn't want to risk a lot of people and I have surprise on my side. First, we're supposed to try and help Danny remember. How's that coming?"

"It isn't. He won't believe me when I tell him he has amnesia. I don't know what can convince him. I thought you might have better luck. You're friends and you can show him around; prove it's 1998 and get his memory back."

Jack wasn't sure he could do a better job than the doctor, but he was willing to try it if it would help Danny, Sam, and Teal'C. He started towards Daniel when Dr. Frasier stopped him.

"Colonel—Jack—you can't force him to remember. You're going to have to be patient with him. He's scared."

"Geez, I'm not gonna hit him, Doc!"

"I know that. Just keep in mind that he has no control over remembering. We need to encourage him. Gently." She left for her office and hours of research on amnesia patients.

He nodded and walked over to his friend. Or whatever Daniel was. "Hi."

Daniel eyed him nervously. "Hello."

"You might not believe this, but we're friends. Pretty good friends—best friends, even. So I'm gonna help you remember, y'know, what you've forgotten." _Oh, this is going swell_, Jack thought to himself. _I sound more confused than he looks_. "Look, why don't I just show you some stuff to convince you it's 1998? We'll go look around the base, I'll show you your office, and tell you all about yourself."

"Who _are_ you?"

Jack paused, surprised (and just a little hurt). "I'm Jack O'Neill. We work together. Look, Danny, it's a real long story and we have much time to go over. So let's get going and I'll tell it on the way. You have a lot to remember and not a lot of time. But I promise—we are friends. And you care a lot about this place and the people who are here. And the people who aren't here."

* * *

"That was the medical bay," Jack explained as they walked down the corridor. "You're there a lot. We're going to your office now. You wouldn't happen to know how to get there on your own, would you?"

"No."

The Colonel nodded. "Didn't think so."

They got onto the elevator in silence and rode up to his office. It was a mess by anyone's standards except Daniel, who knew exactly where everything was. At least, SG1's Daniel knew where everything was. The graduate student didn't have a clue; he stood in the doorway and watched Jack step over irreplaceable artifacts. Jack grinned. "I'll bet your dorm room was just as messy."

"Yeah, but I didn't have anything priceless to step on. This is _my_ office?"

"Yep. Your desk, your books, your papers, your weird stuff you keep taking from other planets. One of these days you're gonna piss somebody off…actually, I think you might have. We've been on so many missions, it's hard to remember."

"Missions?"

Jack's brow furrowed. Of course Daniel didn't know what he was talking about. But exactly how was he supposed to explain "missions?" _Oh, sure, we go off the planet on a regular basis. Hell of a rush, going through the Stargate. Bit cold._ "Maybe I'm showing you the wrong thing first," he reasoned out loud. "What do you care about an office—even if it _is_ bigger than mine? Let's go see the Stargate; that ought to convince you."

As they were about to leave the room, a young sergeant ran through the door, panting. "I'm so sorry to be late with this, sir," he addressed Jackson. "I had no idea what a Hagia Sophia was—I mean, I thought you meant a person. Here are those papers you asked for. If you could just tell me next time that you mean a church, I'd be real grateful. Colonel," he said, saluting.

Daniel didn't even notice he was taking the numerous texts. He could only stare at the sergeant, dumbfounded. "Hagia Sophia…that's ancient Byzantium," he finally mumbled. "What are these…?"

"Sergeant, now is not a good time," Jack stated gruffly. "Dr. Jackson is not feeling well."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Colonel. It's just that he asked me to get these to him as quickly as possible and I thought that—"

"You thought wrong. You're dismissed."

"Yes, sir."

Once the young man had left, Jack escorted Daniel down the hall and towards the embarkation room. "Sorry about that," he muttered. "You're a popular guy. I wish my subordinates were as quick to please as yours are."

"I have subordinates?"

"You have a lot of stuff here that you probably didn't have in college. Got a nice apartment, too. You sure like it better than living with me."

Daniel stopped. "I _lived_ with you? We aren't, y'know…"

"Absolutely not!" Jack replied indignantly. He was a colonel in the United States Air Force and every woman's dream (although, he thought, Daniel shouldn't have sounded so upset; Jack would have made a good catch for the young man). "No, when you got back to Earth, you didn't have anywhere to live. You stayed with me for a few months before you got settled."

"Wait a minute—'got back to earth'?"

"Um…look, I think this is going to prove I'm telling the truth and explain things better than I appear to be doing," Jack said as they stepped into the embarkation room. The Colonel pointed to the Stargate. "_That_ is your little masterpiece. The Stargate."

Daniel walked slowly up the ramp, admiring the Gate as he did. A huge circle with the most peculiar looking pictures on the outer ring; they were similar to hieroglyphics, only different. He had no clue what it did, how it worked, or what part he had played in creating it. Still, it _looked_ impressive. "What does it do?"

"Well, if I understand what you and Carter said, it's like a telephone; you punch in your number with those pictures," he said, pointing to the outer ring, "and it connects with another gate on a different planet. Then you jump through and land billions of miles away. That's what we do, Daniel. We dial different Gates and go explore."

"Well…that's nice. Do we do that often?"

Jack ground his teeth. "Listen, Danny, you're the one that figured this whole thing out. It's because of you that we even got it working. And it's a good thing we did, because you'd have been one pathetic excuse of an archeologist without it."

"What does that mean?" Daniel asked crossly.

"It means you were a laughing stock before the Stargate; you went around with your nutty ideas about aliens building pyramids and nobody believed you. I mean, _aliens built the pyramids_? You had to be crazy. Until you came here. And you proved it. With that," he explained, pointing to the Gate.

Daniel had blanched considerably during Jack's rant. He grabbed the railing for support. "Oh, wow," he whispered. "It can't be…it's all true."

"Daniel? Are you okay? What's the matter?" _What did I do _this_ time_?

"I really did lose seven years of my life."

"Okay, Danny, you're gonna have to tell me what's going on. Unlike some people we've met, I _can't_ read minds."

The young archeologist slid slowly to the floor. "I've been on so many digs and things just weren't adding up, especially the dates. I knew something was wrong, but I couldn't explain it. Then I started to wonder—what if we hadn't built the pyramids? What if somebody else had? What if everything we supposed was wrong. But I didn't tell anyone. I've just been compiling data and keeping a journal on it, but it's secret. I'd get laughed out of the Institute if I told anybody. But you know. _You_ know. And it's true. And it's here." Daniel looked up at Jack. "I really have lost seven years of my life, haven't I?"

"I'm afraid so."

There was a long pause while Daniel digested the information. "I'm gonna be ill."

* * *

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	3. Life Is What You Make of It

A/N: Thank you so much to those who reviewed. It brings me such joy! Please continue doing so. This chapterfurther setsthings up. Don't worry--there's serious action in the horizon. --your humble author

Chapter Three: Life Is What You Make of It

* * *

Sam awoke with a start. Her leg! Her leg had a _hole_ in it! The pain was unbearable; it was excruciating; it was torturous. It was all in her head? 

"Huh?" She looked at her leg, which had previously been a charred mass of skin, destroyed nerve endings, and blackened bone. At least, that's what she vaguely remembered. But as she ran her hand over her appendage, it was completely normal.

"Captain Carter, I am pleased you are awake. Are you well?"

"I…think so. Wasn't I shot?"

Teal'C nodded. He had spent most of his time in an exceptionally deep state of kel-no-reem and consequently didn't know what had happened. "Indeed. I cannot explain your recovery, although it likely occurred because of our captors."

"Have you seen them?"

"No. They have not presented themselves."

Sam sighed and flexed her knee. Well, her leg _seemed_ to be in one piece. She stood up and took a tentative step, relieved when she didn't fall over in agony. "This all seems so strange. Why would they heal me? _How_ would they heal me? Their technology seemed advanced, but _they_ certainly didn't. Maybe this planet has healing powers," she conjectured. "It doesn't make sense, but nothing does, really."

"There is little we can do until we have more information."

Sam sat back down, resigned. "You're right. We'll just have to wait until they see us. I hope the Colonel comes back for us."

"That would be consistent with his previous actions."

That made Sam smile. "So, it looks like we've got some time on our hands. Want to play twenty questions?"

* * *

Jack and Daniel walked the halls of the SGC. Jack explained Danny's past and present, while the young archeologist grew increasingly awed. Although he accepted that seven years had mysteriously passed, he certainly hadn't come to terms with it. Everything seemed unreal. 

"You figured out how the Gate works about two weeks after you got here. 'Course, I guess that's why they brought you in."

"I'm sure anybody could have figured it out," Daniel responded with sincere modesty.

"The military had an entire team working on it for two years before you showed up. But, yeah, two years, two weeks—what's the difference?"

"Oh."

Jack rolled his eyes and continued by relating their mission to Abydos. "Well, we couldn't have been there more than a couple of hours when you pissed off some weird camel and it dragged you to the planet's city. At least, I _guess_ you could call it a city; people lived there. Anyway, that's where you met Sha'uri."

"Sha'uri?"

"Your wife."

Daniel's jaw hit the floor and his eyes bugged out. He vaguely resembled a fish. "I got _married_? To an _alien_?"

Jack explained everything he could, from Ra to the bomb to leaving Daniel on Abydos with Sha'uri. It was painful for him to tell Daniel all that had happened, considering the heartache it caused the "real" Daniel.

"Well, how did I wind up back here? Wait—_where_ is 'here?'"

"Colorado. We're in an underground complex on Cheyenne Mountain. And you're here because of a swell little visit we got from our old friend Apophis." That led Jack to discuss their present circumstances. He told Daniel about Sha'uri's abduction, Sam, Teal'C, Ammonet, and their continuing mission to save his wife and protect Earth. Jack felt like he was reciting the opening monologue to Star Trek.

"And that pretty much brings us up to today. I guess. I mean, we've done a lot of stuff since we started using the Stargate and we've been on more missions. But you can read the reports."

Daniel nodded slowly, not really understanding what Jack meant by "missions." The concepts of traveling through space, stomach snakes, and his _wife_ were also giving him trouble. And apparently there was more. "So what happened today? Besides my amnesia."

Jack barely concealed the anger he felt at the situation and at himself for not preventing the problems they were facing. He knew in his head that none of it was his fault, but that didn't stop the guilt. "We got to P3X-772 and split up. You and I went to look at a rock while Carter and Teal'C tested for naquada. Not more than an hour could have passed when we got attacked. They got Carter and Teal'C but we escaped. That's how you hit your head—we jumped off a cliff and into a river."

"Well, there's something I would never do."

"You do what you have to. And now we have to go get our teammates."

"We?"

"Well, that's the problem; you knew what was going on. The rock you were looking at said…something…and you were gonna tell me when they started shooting at us. Now it's kind of important for you to remember. Their lives depend on it."

"Oh. Um…I have no idea."

Jack shook his head. "It's okay. C'mon, I've got something else for you to see."

* * *

Daniel sat numb, the glow of the television glinting in his eyes. Jack had left him to go speak with the doctor and some General. While he was gone, Daniel was supposed to watch that morning's briefing in an effort to regain his memory. It wasn't happening, though. The more he watched, the more upset he began to feel. What the hell had he got himself into? 

"Traveling to other planets? Getting _married_? Working for the military? Stomach snakes? And I look so old. I guess that's no surprise; anybody who'd been through the past few years he'd been through—_I've_ been through? We? I got _married_?

"How on Earth am I supposed to help these people? For Heaven's sake, I only just finished the first draft of my dissertation. I'm in no position to understand what's going on _on another planet_!"

He sighed heavily. "Seven _years_ of my life. My goals, my plans, everything I've worked so hard for…and it's all gone. And I'm talking to myself."

Daniel became quiet and watched the images on the screen. There was his doppelganger, cheerfully expounding on archaeological finds on P3X-772. An older man referred to him as "son" while Jack mumbled something about a complete lack of strategic value. Sam (who was surprisingly attractive for a military officer) warned him about the _last_ time he had seen great archaeological finds. She said it with a smile and the other Daniel, who seemed to know what she was talking about, blushed furiously but returned the grin. Such camaraderie. They were all friends. They were friends, part of a secret military organization, running around the universe, and getting attacked by native people and stomach snakes.

"This is too much," he mumbled. Daniel stood up and ran out of the room.

* * *

Jack sat in Dr. Fraiser's office with General Hammond. "He believes us. I took him to the embarkation room and explained everything. It turns out his aliens-built-the-pyramids theory's been around for awhile. He just doesn't know what the hell he's doing _here_." 

"And I don't know why that is."

"Dr. Fraiser?"

She shook her head at the General's question and pulled out a few complicated looking papers. "I have gone over his tests three times and I just cannot see any injury that would result in his amnesia. He was unconscious longer than I would like for a concussion, but there is no evidence of brain damage."

"What are you saying? He's faking it?"

"Not at all; Daniel would never do something like that. He has suffered some sort of trauma, but I think it might be psychological as well as physical. I believe his brain has used this injury as a trigger. It sent him back on purpose."

Jack looked confused and even more frustrated. "So what do we do now? How do we get him to remember? _Will_ he remember?"

The General put up his hand, silencing Jack. "What is your recommendation, Dr. Fraiser? Colonel O'Neill will be going back to the planet and we need Dr. Jackson's help."

"Since the problem is psychological, you have to find out what caused it. Once you have that, he should regain his memory. If I'm correct, his brain is trying to protect him from something; once he's forced to face it he'll recover."

Jack opened his mouth to respond to the impossibility of the task when a young MP raced into the room. "C-Colonel O'Neill!"

"What is it?"

The young man looked very nervous. "Y'know how you told me to keep an eye on Dr. Jackson while I made my watch? Well, I went by the room every few minutes but then I went by and he wasn't there. And I don't know what's going on but I couldn't find him and—"

"I told you to keep an eye on him! I told you to make sure he stayed in that room!"

General Hammond placed a hand on Jack's shoulder. "I know you're concerned, but I'm sure he's fine and somewhere in the compound. We'll get a team together and look for him."

"With all due respect, sir, this compound is huge."

"Then we'll have a big team. Let's go."

"He's probably scared," Dr. Fraiser called after them. "You're gonna need to be sensitive to his circumstances. Now that he's acknowledged the truth of the situation, there's a lot for him to swallow. Bring him back here when you find him."

* * *

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	4. In Perspective, Out of Mind

A/N: To those reviewing, many heartfelt thanks; it's so important to any writer and when you tell me what you think, it helps me to improve. Thanks. --your humble author

Chapter Four: In Perspective, Out of Mind

Jack found him. It was the strangest thing, but he felt called to the basement. It took awhile for him to find his way there, especially since the area was all but abandoned. But there was Daniel, his voice barely audible behind the heavy steel door. Jack opened the door.

"What are you doing?"

Daniel spun around. "W-what? Huh?"

"I asked what you're doing."

The younger man looked nervous and at a loss for words. "I, um…I'm…um, I was…I mean, I saw…" He stopped and took a deep breath. "I can't help you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I can't help you. This problem that you have—those people on the other planet—I can't do anything about them."

"What on Earth are you talking about? Of course you can help them. Daniel, what are you doing down here?"

Jack took a step forward and Daniel moved back a step in response. He appeared very agitated. "Look, the person you want to help you was on that video; it's not me. We are totally different people. Your Daniel obviously knows a lot more than I do. I really think I should just go…somewhere. I don't know where, but not here."

Jack was shaking his head. "No, you're wrong. You need to be here and you know just as much as the Daniel on the video. I talked with Dr. Frasier and she said you can't remember because your brain…got upset and forgot. I don't know, she can explain it better. But it's psychological. You were just upset. _He_ was upset. You know what I mean."

"So, I got hit on the head and my brain forgot on purpose?"

Jack nodded.

"Well, I'm not surprise; I can't say I blame him."

"What?"

"Your Daniel's life was terrible! I can't believe that I would ever do some of the things he did. I mean, he joined the military, he hides everything he finds from the world, he married an alien who wound up with a snake in her stomach, he isn't teaching or going out on digs—nothing is the way it should be. All of my plans are gone. Frankly, I'd have forgotten everything, too."

Jack looked stunned. He could not believe those words came out of Daniel's mouth. He felt himself grow angry. "Yeah, I guess your life sucks. But it's the only one you've got. And let me get some of those facts straight for you: The Daniel I knew was excited about every planet we went to. Every time he got to learn something new was a successful mission—whether he had to keep it to himself or not. The Daniel I knew did this job for two reasons: To protect Earth and find his wife. And that's one more thing, _Daniel_; don't you ever refer to Sha'uri that way again. She is your _wife_, and the man I knew loved her more than anything else. He loved his team, too, and there's no way he would give up on Sam and Teal'C. He would give his _life_ for them. So you can think whatever you want about my Daniel's life, but I can tell you this: the guy that's gone AWOL in your head is ten times the man you are."

Daniel's jaw fell. After a minute, he regained some of his composure. "Well, I…I didn't…I mean I—I don't know if I should be flattered or angry." He sighed, obviously opting for the former. "It's so much. I never dreamt my life would be like this. I mean, it's as if I walked into a parallel universe."

"You've done that, too." Daniel just gaped. "You're supposed to be scared, Danny. But you're also supposed to get over it. At least ignore it until the job is done. You can't leave here and you can't quit. People are depending on you. And I'd like my friend back."

Daniel hung his head and his shoulders dropped. The room was very silent for a moment. "Well, I can't promise you your friend back, but I'll help you and Sam and Teal'C. I know I need to help save them; it's what's right and I'll do whatever it takes. But I can't promise anything about staying here when that's over."

Jack nodded and put an arm around Daniel's shoulder, guiding him out of the room. "Well, there's nothing like crossing a bridge when we come to it. And that bridge is quite a ways away."

* * *

Daniel and Jack sat down in Dr. Frasier's office. General Hammond was there but only acknowledged them with a nod and turned his attention back to the doctor. "How are you feeling?" she asked Daniel.

"My head hurts. I think I'm hungry."

"You think?"

He fidgeted in his seat. "Well, I'm not sure if I'm really hungry or if it's just because I didn't eat seven years ago."

"Why don't we get you some food either way," she suggested and picked up the phone. She asked a nurse to get some food from the cafeteria and bring in two aspirin as well. "Are you feeling less overwhelmed?"

"No. But I feel responsible; I want to help."

General Hammond took control of the conversation. "I'm glad you're feeling up to the task, Dr. Jackson. We only have a short time before Colonel O'Neill is scheduled to return to P3X-772 and time is crucial here. From what he has told me, I believe the information you have is invaluable."

"Sir," Janet interrupted. "An amnesia patient has no control over recovery. He is completely subject to chance. Pushing him to remember faster may cause added stress and hinder the process."

"So what do we do?"

She shrugged. "There isn't much else we can do but continue to introduce him to past memories. And of course try to find out the reason behind the amnesia. What mental trauma induced it? This case is very complicated."

They sat in quiet thoughtfulness until Daniel spoke up. "Whatever happened, it happened on that planet." He took a steadying breath. "Why don't I go back?"

"What? Are you kidding?" Jack demanded. "There's no way you're going back there! Don't be ridiculous."

"But I must have seen and heard everything of significance here—I don't think it gets more significant than what you've told me about my life. And you're right; I _need_ to help Sam and Turk—Teal? Teal'C. Sam and Teal'C. Whether they're my friends or not I have the responsibility and I meant what I said: I'll do whatever it takes. Besides," he added with a weak smile, "you said I love going to new planets."

"Yeah, well, you didn't love nearly getting shot in the head or when I pushed you off the cliff. You're not going anywhere, Danny, and that's final."

General Hammond was nodding his agreement. "He's right, son. It's far too dangerous and I can't let you take the risk. If you can't remember in the next four hours, Colonel O'Neill will attempt the rescue alone."

"Sir, I must have done crazy stuff like this, otherwise I wouldn't have been on that planet in the first place. I want to help. I want to get this done. With all due respect to the Daniel you knew, I want to get back to the life _I_ knew, or at least salvage the one I have. And you said that time is crucial."

The three officers looked at one another questioningly. Dr. Frasier knew that she had no medical reason to keep Daniel from such an important task. Besides the psychological issues, a concussion didn't constitute a serious head injury. For his part, General Hammond couldn't deny the critical time factor; the sooner they got to the planet, the better were their chances of a live rescue. Jack, too, was in a quandary. Did he risk Daniel for Sam and Teal'C on the chance that Daniel would remember once they got there?

"He's right," Janet admitted softly. "Time is of the essence and I don't think four hours is enough to figure out his psyche. Moreover, his chances of recovery are better in the place where he lost his memory than here."

Hammond turned to Jack. "Colonel?"

"You know I don't like this, Sir. We've already established that it's a hostile planet and, to be honest, Daniel wasn't real formidable _before_ he lost his memory; I don't think he's prepared to shoot someone now."

"Shoot someone?"

Jack eyed his friend warily. "This is a search and rescue with people who have already neutralized two of our men. We're not borrowing a cup of sugar. If you go, you'll get a gun and you'll probably have to use it."

"Have I done it before?"

"Yes."

"Then I can do it again."

At that moment, when the tension couldn't get any stronger, the nurse walked in with a tray of food and two aspirin. She set it on Dr. Frasier's desk, smiled nervously at everyone, and left as quickly as she could. After a brief silence, General Hammond stood and looked sternly down at Daniel. "Eat up. You leave for P3X-772 in one hour."

* * *

Jack and Daniel stood in the Embarkation Room with an established wormhole. The Colonel looked determined, but Daniel was a mix of awe, excitement, and terror. In one short hour, he was equipped with a gun, radio, and numerous other necessities (most of which fit conveniently in the multi-pocketed vest they had provided). He was briefed on the Stargate's most basic principles and how to return home if he had to.

"Does it hurt?" he asked wondrously.

"The landings a little rough and it'll shake you up a bit. It gets better with practice. But that should be the least of your concerns."

General Hammond gave the order to go and the two men headed up the ramp. Jack stopped Daniel before going through. "Listen to me carefully: You will do what I tell you to do. You will go where I tell you to go. Do _not_ wander off no matter what. If I tell you to shoot something, shoot it. Above all else, you will obey every order I give. Do you understand me?"

Daniel could only nod.

"Then lets go."

And Daniel jumped through the gate for the first time again.

* * *

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	5. The Unwelcome Wagon

A/N: Yikes! No reviews for my last chapter? Well, I hope you enjoy this one, anyway; it's time to meet the natives. –your humble author

Chapter Five: The Unwelcome Wagon

Jack stepped out of the Gate and headed in the direction of the artifact, only to notice he was alone. Daniel, who had been thrown out of the wormhole, sat gasping on the ground, trying to control the shivers that wracked his body. Gate travel got better with practice, but at that moment, Daniel's muscles felt like they were frozen. That was a bad thing for two people who couldn't afford to stay still.

"C'mon, Danny, I know it sucks, but we gotta start movin' unless you want company. Shake it off; it'll pass."

The archaeologist stood on unstable legs and nodded at Jack. They made their way towards the rock, moving at a pace Jack thought Daniel could handle. He was worried about his young friend and voiced that concern.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"What's wrong?"

"That's kind of a loaded question. As of when I woke up, everything."

Jack couldn't suppress a sardonic grin. "I guess it's been a rough few hours. At least everything will seem normal when you get your memory back."

Danny stopped. "_If_ I get my memory back," he corrected. "Maybe the psychological explanation behind your Daniel's amnesia is that he didn't want to remember anymore. He's been through a lot of pain."

"I won't believe that."

"Even if it's the truth?"

"It's _not_ the truth."

They continued in silence. Jack felt guilty and angry at the same time. He didn't want to sound harsh. After all, the poor kid had just woken up to find seven years gone by. Seven very eventful years. Conversely, there was some young punk in his Daniel's body, bemoaning what he had become. Jack didn't know a lot of other people as brilliant and compassionate as his friend, and damn if he was going to let anyone say otherwise.

"Here it is," the Colonel mumbled, still lost in thought. Daniel, however, was lost in wonder.

"This is amazing," he whispered, moving slowly to examine the giant rock that was laced with pictures and inscriptions. For a second, Jack saw the man he knew.

"Do you remember anything?"

"I…no. I'm sorry. But this—it's incredible! Do you have any idea its significance? These writings and the pictures here—I…it's…wow!"

Jack frowned. "Do I really need to remind you what we're doing here and what's at stake? You see that hole burned into that tree over there? That was meant for your head."

That was enough to quell Daniel's excitement and the younger man sat down to look over the artifact, aware for only a moment that Jack was tapping his watch. As soon as his attention was on the stone, Daniel was gone—seeing nothing but the object before him.

Jack was busy guarding their perimeter and checking his watch, so he didn't notice the growing look of surprise on Daniel's face. When they had finally spent as much time as Jack deemed safe, he called for them to leave. "Let's get moving; we'll recon the point where they were last. Daniel?"

Daniel's surprise had turned to confusion and he was very focused on the script in front of him. "But I think I may have found something that's very…unusual. You see these symbols here? I think I recognize these."

"Are you getting your memory back?" Jack asked hopefully.

"No, but that's what's so unusual; I'm pretty sure I remember seeing these in Iraq last summer."  
"Iraq? You weren't—oh. Sorry, I forgot about our little time difference. What were you doing in—" Jack stopped and held up a hand. He had heard movement. Pointing his gun in the direction of the sound, he pushed Daniel behind him. "Come out. Slowly," he demanded.

Obediently, a small, cat-like creature walked out of the woods and stared at Jack, who lowered his weapon and rolled his eyes. "Look, it isn't safe to stay in one place too long. We're gonna head towards the area where Carter and Teal'C were last heard from. Tell me everything you know on the way."

Daniel followed the Colonel and explained the situation, glad to finally know something of relevance. "We were doing a dig in ancient Ur when fighting broke out between the Kurds and the local police. It was pretty bad, so the Kurds decided a student from Egypt would make a good bargaining chip. I agreed to be that chip."

"You _agreed_ to be their _hostage_?"

"The local police were brutal and I had become pretty good friends with the Kurds; I only did what I thought was best."

"That _would_ seem to be a problem for you." Jack shook his head at Daniel's inquisitive look. "Go on. So you agreed to be a hostage."

Daniel frowned, curious what the older man was talking about. "Well, I stayed in a tent with the eldest member of the tribe, Serhat bin Rojdah Al Acun . He was at least a hundred and I spent most of my time just listening to his stories and accounts. After a few days, he pulled out this _ancient_ cartouche that had what looked like warped Sumerian cuneiform. He told me that he found it when he was a boy and _his_ great-grandfather said it came from the days when the gods ruled."

"Gods? Like the Goa'uld?"

Daniel stopped and turned to Jack. "That's the thing—he said it was from the days when the gods ruled with snakes. Snakes have been prevalent in religion all over the world, so I didn't think much of it. But the writing on that rock was the same as the glyphs on Al Acun's cartouche. The only explanation for how they got here is…"

"The Stargate."

They continued their walk in silence until Jack asked, "Okay, so the Goa'uld were in—where did you say it was?"

"Sumer—better known as Sumeria. But the thing is, Ancient Sumeria predated Ancient Egypt. So these Goa'uld didn't start out in Egypt, but began in what most people agree is the cradle of human civilization."

Jack struggled to digest the information. Archaeology, anthropology, history—whichever Daniel was talking about—it was _not_ his area of expertise. Often, between Carter and Daniel, he wondered how he even stayed abreast of a situation. "So, can we assume whoever attacked us is from Ancient Sumeria?"

"Well, their descendents, yes. Al Acun went on to tell me that a great battle ensued between some warriors and priests and the gods. It only lasted a short time and the gods were victorious, but a number of the warriors and priests disappeared. After that, the gods also vanished, taking everything that represented them, including the remainder of the warriors and priests, and abandoned the Sumerians. I assume now that they started over again in Egypt." He shook his head in awe. "It's tablets four and five of the Enuma Elish, but with a twist of science fiction."

"The Ena-_what_? Wait—never mind. This is all very complicated."

"Yes, but it's so exciting! I never dreamed how important Al Acun's story could be; this goes so much farther than my own theories. I mean, I knew something wasn't adding up in Egypt, but this is truly a miraculous find."

The Colonel shook his head. It seemed that, no matter what mental age, Daniel just could not grasp the danger of a situation. "Getting back to the problem at hand, what do you think is going on here?"

There was a long pause while Daniel pondered the question. "I think," he said finally, "that these warriors and priests learned how to use the Stargate and came here when they began to lose the battle. That explains why the Goa'uld, who would have wanted to reassert their power, didn't publicly execute them. That also means that these people who attacked Teal'C and Captain Carter are very anti-Goa'uld. And probably quite primitive if they didn't understand what was going on in depth."

"On a scale of one to ten, how sure are you about all this?"

"Um…a two."

He mumbled something under his breath, apparently not too satisfied with Daniel's answer. Pushing past some foliage he entered the clearing where Teal'C and Carter had been either killed or taken. They both stopped and looked around. There were no bodies, adding to the hope that the missing team members were alive, but the clearing looked like a war field. There were large holes in a number of the trees and burnt soil where some sort of weapon had hit. A little farther out, Daniel stumbled on Sam's gun. "Here," he said, handing it to Jack, "I'm pretty sure this didn't belong to the people who attacked you. I mean, us."

Jack holstered it and bent down to examine the ground where the gun had been found. A few feet away were some droplets of dried blood that continued intermittently toward the woods. "Carter was injured and they carried her off—probably took Teal'C as well. We should be able to find them if we follow the blood trail. C'mon, let's go. Daniel, c'mon. Daniel?" Jack turned around to find Daniel standing with his arms up in surrender and a group of fierce looking warriors pointing weapons at both of them. Jack put his arms in the air. "Or perhaps these nice gentlemen will take us."

* * *

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	6. Hello, Goodbye

A/N: My sincerest thanks for your reviews. They make me feel all warm and happy inside; I'm sure you can empathize. As for this chapter: If, like Daniel, you thought things couldn't get worse, you were wrong. –your humble author

Hello, Goodbye

"So, do you come around here often?" Jack asked their captors as they walked along. "It's really a nice planet you've got here. It's very…green."

Unlike Jack, Daniel was silent. He looked scared but fascinated, eyeing the guards' actions, their clothes, headgear, weapons, and manner of interaction. He was so fascinated that he failed to watch his step and tripped over a tree root. It sent him tumbling forward into two guards and down the hill they were on. When he finally came to a stop at the foot of the mound, he was surrounded by guards, their weapons aimed right at his head.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I tripped. It happens a lot."

He didn't have time to explain anything else because one of the men grabbed him and pulled him roughly to his feet. Daniel was shoved against a stone wall and the barrel, so to speak, of the weapon shoved against his stomach. He stood face to face with a very dangerous man. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry; I'm sorry; please don't kill me. I'm so sorry."

The man just growled, then pushed something on the wall and a door opened. The soldier threw Daniel in and Jack followed right after. The door closed behind them and another opened before the two.

"Who's there?" a familiar voice demanded from the next room.

"Carter?"

"Colonel?"

Jack and Daniel ran forward to reunite with their team. They looked each other over for signs of injury and were able to settle down when everyone appeared intact.

"How did you find us? How do we get out?"

Jack put up a hand to silence the Captain. "Things didn't go quite as I'd planned. We actually got a very friendly escort here."

"Yeah, real friendly," Daniel muttered, fingering the bruise that was already forming where the guard had grabbed him. "I don't know what kind of weapon he had, but I thought he was gonna kill me."

"It looked _kinda_ like a staff weapon," Sam observed, glancing at Teal'C for confirmation.

"Indeed. It vaguely resembles an older model, but none that I have ever seen personally. It may be a variation if the people on this planet have ever encountered the Goa'uld."

"What's a staff weapon?"

The other three members of SG1 turned to Daniel. "What do you mean?" Sam asked. "You know what a staff weapon is. You've been killed by them twice."

Jack held up a hand to stop the new information, but it was too late. "There was a little confusion after you two were captured. Danny forgot the past seven years."

"_Seven years_? So, you don't know who we are?"

"Well—uh—Jack's been telling me stuff about you. Although he failed to mention the part where I _died_. _Twice_."

Jack shrugged. "Long story short—you have a nasty habit of getting mortally wounded. And you've died three times, not two."

The Colonel explained everything that had happened and listened while Carter and Teal'C recounted their time in the cell. Daniel sat listening but didn't participate. For the first time in a number of hours, he had an opportunity to think about the situation. It was going from unbelievable to nightmarishly insane.

He figured that his earlier self—the one who knew Jack, Sam, and Teal'C—must have noticed the familiar writing on the stone or else he would not have got so worked up. And it wasn't as though Danny were in some sort of new situation. He had been in prison before. And captured by angry natives. The Middle East hardly made for easy working conditions, especially with his propensity for getting in trouble. But this was different, of course, and Daniel felt the growing tightness of anxiety in his chest.

His mind kept turning to the same thing—the madness of the situation. Only yesterday he was classifying artifacts, grading term papers, teaching his intro to hieroglyphics, and researching for his dissertation. In retrospect, it was an awful lot to be plugging in to each day; no wonder he passed out. Still, all of that hardly stood in comparison to his present situation. Was he going to die (apparently for a fourth time)? So much information. His mind whirled.

"Well," Jack began once they were done updating one another, "the only thing we don't know is what's gonna happen. Any ideas, Danny? Danny?"

Daniel was shaking. No more than a person who hadn't eaten in a while, but it was enough to cause concern with his suddenly white face and huge, worrisome eyes. He didn't appear to have heard Jack (who wondered if the young man even knew there were other people in the room). Sam moved and took hold of Daniel's hand; it was cold and clammy—a sure sign of shock.

"He's not doing very well, sir."

"Daniel? Daniel, can you hear me? I want you to look at me, Danny; tell me what's wrong. Are you hurt?" When the archeologist didn't answer, Jack moved to replace Sam and grabbed Daniel by his shoulders. "Talk. To. Me."

"I—I don't wanna die."

"You're not gonna die! I won't let that happen."

Danny managed to look both terrified and incredulous. "What do you mean you won't let that happen? It's _already_ happened! Three times!"

"Those were…different. I don't know! Look, we don't even know what's going on right now, but they obviously want us alive. Could this panic attack possibly wait until _after_ they decide to kill us?"

"Colonel!"

"I'm sorry!" Jack ran a hand through his hair and sighed. What he wouldn't give to be fishing right now. "Daniel, we are a team. You saw what we went through to get Carter and Teal'C; I'm not gonna fight any less to save you. We will get out of this alive—just like we did on all the other missions. Even the ones where we died," he added. _There's something I never thought I'd say_. "Just pretend you're a Kurdish hostage. I'm not a hundred anymore, but I'll do my best."

"You're not a hundred '_anymore_?'"

"Long story."

"Are there any short ones?"

Jack's mouth twitched in a smile, pleased to see Daniel calming down. "Not really. But I'll tell you each one as soon as we get back to Earth. Which we will, Danny. You gotta believe me."

Daniel took a deep breath and nodded. "I know; I shouldn't be scared."

"No. You should be scared. There's nothing wrong with a nice, healthy fear in a situation like this. Let's try for scared, but hopeful, though."

Sam chuckled softly. "'Scared but hopeful.' That sounds like it could be SG1's motto. Or, at least, 'scared but perseverant.'"

"So, what do we do?"

Jack sat back and closed his eyes, seemingly at ease with their circumstances, despite his lecture and the fact that he was anything _but_ at ease. "We wait."

* * *

They waited hours; Sam and Jack were resting their eyes (or lightly sleeping) and Teal'C sat in quiet meditation. Daniel was also sitting, but he nervously drew pictographs on the dirt. How could the others be so relaxed? Didn't they realize the danger? The young man stopped suddenly, struck by a thought. Had this team actually been through so many life-threatening situations that it just didn't care? The hieroglyph doodles weren't helpful; Danny was losing confidence by the minute. Finally he got up to confront Jack's nonchalance when the door to the cell opened.

Four Jaffa entered, their antique staff weapons pointed at the team. The leader stopped in front of Daniel and his pictures. He growled something unintelligible and shoved the archaeologist away. Daniel stumbled into Jack, who took the opportunity to put himself between his friend and the danger.

"D'you understand what he said?"

"It sounds familiar; some sort of deviation on ancient Sumerian, but—"

"So, you don't know."

"Well, one of the words sounded like the Sumerian for picture, but otherwise…no."

The Jaffa ran his foot over Daniel's drawings, then faced the team and barked his original statement. When all he received were blank stares, he gestured for them to exit, following and followed from behind.

They walked close together, only a couple meters ahead of the guards, so Jack lowered his voice to a conspiratorial level. "I wasn't sure if they understood English or had the room bugged before, but I think it's time everyone knew I have a pistol strapped to my calf. I'm gonna trip, you three back away, and then I can take out the guards when they come to see what's wrong. We'll head for the river; we're at its bank here, so there's no need to jump off a cliff. Let the current move you to the Stargate. Has everyone got it?"

"Sir, that's gotta be the oldest trick in the book."

"Captain, I'm not gonna sit on my ass and wait to get killed. Now, we're gonna shoot and run, okay?"

Everyone nodded, which sent the chain of events into motion. Jack fell on one knee, crying out in pain, while the other team member jumped back. With a clear path, the Jaffa ran straight for Jack who was already pulling back the safety on his pistol and turning to fire. Three shots, three dead guards, and all four were running for the water.

Unfortunately (and didn't it seem that word was coming up an awful lot?), the shots carried to other close-by Jaffa, who came running with their staff weapons and started shooting. Shots whizzed by their heads, burning into trees and ground. All they needed was to reach the river and make it to the Stargate; they'd be safe.

It was a few hundred meters' run, but Carter made it to the water first, diving in and letting the fast current carry her on. Teal'C was next and, despite his size, the river moved him quickly out of harm's way.

Jack followed them, with Daniel right behind. Only Daniel didn't make it to the water. One of the blasts hit him squarely in the back and Jack had to watch his friend's charred body hit the ground, while he was swept away in the river.

"Danny! _Danny_!"

But it was too late. Jack couldn't possibly fight the tide and the staff weapon wound left no doubt that Daniel was dead.

* * *

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	7. Into the Black Light

A/N: Many, many thanks for the reviews! Ah, you do my little heart good. This chapter's a bit longer and should help establish what in the world is going on. Please continue your kind comments, knowing how much they're appreciated. –your humble author.

Into the Black Light

Daniel woke up, groggy and disoriented. They had been running from the guards when an awful burning sensation knocked him off his feet and then…nothing. Where were Colonel O'Neill and the other two? Where was _he_? Were they here? More importantly, why was "here" a box?

He gasped when an exceptionally large Jaffa peered into the sarcophagus, along with a staff weapon pointed at the prisoner. He grunted, said something unintelligible, and motioned for Daniel to get up. He did so cautiously.

Hadn't he…hadn't he been shot? With that stick thing? Oh my gosh! He was dead! Except he wasn't. Danny stopped suddenly, then quickly checked himself over, looking like a dog chasing its tail. How was this possible? He _knew_ one of those blasts had killed him. He turned to the guard, then pointed at the box.

The guard—who seemed to be doubting Daniel's sanity—replied in a word that was almost familiar. Almost. So he pointed again and the guard repeated himself (this time nearly certain that his prisoner was crazy).

"_Baltukimah_."

_Baltukimah_? A moment passed, but in that moment some circuit switched itself on and Daniel knew exactly what the guard had said. That was Sumerian! He understood. He couldn't explain how he knew; he had learned Sumerian a few years ago. Or, rather, a few years plus seven. But Danny knew he wasn't a good enough linguist yet to decipher the idiosyncrasies of its changes on this planet—change over time and the influence of one or two other languages. Still, his confusion didn't matter in comparison with his joy. He could finally communicate!

"_Baltukimah_," he repeated. "_Baltu_…living. _Kimah_ means tomb. Living tomb. What on Earth is a living tomb? It looks kinda like an ancient sarcophagus," he observed, walking slowly around. "Although I don't remember any I ever saw bringing people back to life. Wait! That must be how I got killed and then got…unkilled." He shook his head. "Is nothing simple anymore?"

The Jaffa suddenly poked him with the staff weapon, pulling the young archaeologist back into his present circumstances. "_Alka_."

"_Alka_…come."

Having no desire to be killed a fifth time and filled with curiosity and a newfound strength from the ability to communicate, Daniel followed the guard.

* * *

Jack crawled out of the water at the Stargate but didn't get up. He just lay there, wet, panting, cold, and fighting back the urge to sob. He had _promised_ to protect Daniel! Why had he not fought Dr. Frasier and General Hammond harder on letting Danny come? Why had he even come up with that stupid escape plan? How many times now had he been forced to lose his friend?

"Colonel! Where's Daniel?"

He looked up, his expression a mixture of fury and self-loathing. "Dead."

Sam almost fell and Teal'C's stoicism melted. Neither had seen the event. "Dead?"

"Was he not right behind us, O'Neill? Are you certain?"

Jack got up and walked to the DHD, followed closely by Teal'C and Carter. "I'm positive. He got hit in the back with a staff weapon blast. There's no day he could survive that. I saw smoke rising from him," Jack added through clenched teeth, ignoring the sting of tears. A string of expletives followed, along with a number of kicks to the DHD's base.

"Sir, Daniel may very well be alive. My leg had what must have been a fourth degree burn only hours ago. Besides, quit kicking the DHD or we might never get out of here."

That had Jack's attention. "What happened to your leg?"

"I got shot by a staff weapon, too, and passed out. When I woke up, my leg was as good as new. They must have a sarcophagus or some sort of healing device. Colonel, if they used it on me, I'm sure they'll use it on him."

There was hope? All right, that made his decision. They'd stay, go back to the village, and rescue Daniel. He wasn't sure how or from whom or with what, but if even a sliver of a chance existed that Daniel was alive and could be rescued, Jack knew he'd give his life for it.

"All right, Carter—you send a message to General Hammond through the Gate, letting him know what we're doing. That'll also make the natives think we've gone back. Then we'll move in a wide arc, back towards the village. We need to remain unnoticed. Let's get to it."

* * *

Daniel stood in what could only be described as opulence. The whole room decorated in gold and silver with purple tapestries strewn around appropriately. An imposing, but empty, throne took up the far end, about two feet above everything else. Daniel was before it, being carefully watched by two guards at the back of the room and the two next to him. He wondered what gave them the impression he could fight one, let alone _four_, Jaffa warriors. He turned to his left and the only familiar face.

"I'm Daniel." He pointed to himself. "Dan-yihl."

Suspicious but intrigued, the guard from the sarcophagus room answered, "Ekur."

"Ekur…okay. Where am I?"

"You come but you do not know where you are? This is Shin'ar."

"Silence!" A ridiculously large Jaffa commanded as he entered. At least seven feet tall with biceps like a side of beef. Suddenly, Daniel found himself forced to his knees as yet another person entered. This man was smaller, but more commanding. He sat in the chair and eyed Daniel. Turning to the other four guards, he waved a hand and they exited immediately, leaving only the larger Jaffa and one young man in his presence.

"What is your name, child?"

Like he needed anyone to make him feel younger. "Daniel. Daniel Jackson."

"And who is this 'Daniel Jackson,' that he should use the portal of the gods?"

He stiffened. Something was wrong. This man, obviously a ruler, handled himself in a manner inconsistent with anti-Goa'uld priests and soldiers. "This Daniel Jackson is a scientist…who doesn't believe in gods."

The Jaffa armed his staff weapon and stalked towards the infidel. "Wait," the man on the throne commanded. He paused, as if trying to make a decision, then said finally, "You may leave us, Telal."

"But, Master—"

"_Do you question me_?"

Telal bowed low and backed out of the room. "No, Master."

The Master got off his thrown and walked towards the captive. "If you do not believe in gods, Daniel Jackson, then what _do_ you believe in?"

"I believe in Goa'uld."

In one swift move, the Master had hold of Daniel's hair and forced the young man's head back. "Where do you come from?"

"Ea—Earth." His head was pulled back so far that he could barely talk. But it didn't matter; the look on his captor's face was well worth the pain. Clearly, he hadn't expected to hear the word "Earth." Suddenly, Daniel found himself released. "Who are you?" he asked, rubbing his abused scalp.

"Foolish child; you do not know greatness when it is before you?"

"I'm afraid I don't know a lot of things at the moment." He stood up and stretched his neck. "I thought—that is, I reasoned—that this was a sort of ex-patriot colony of Sumerian priests and warriors. I had no idea a Goa'uld had come with them."

This youth kept throwing curveballs at the disgruntled ruler. How did he know about Sumeria? And Goa'ulds? When had the Tau'ri learned to use the Chaapa'ai? His eyes narrowed at Daniel. "You will tell me everything you know of human history, how you came to use the Stargate, and all your interactions with the gods."

Danny knew that he could _not_ cooperate with this being; any information he gave could be used to destroy or enslave Earth. "You're not gods. And I won't tell you anything."

"Very well, then," the Goa'uld announced, reaching for some sort of metal device he put on his hand. He walked over to Daniel, raised his arm, and sent the archaeologist to his knees again. "I am Qingu, young one. I _will_ be your god and you _will_ tell me what I want to know."

With that, Daniel passed out.

* * *

He woke up to a nasty headache and wondered, briefly, if the cause had been the first head injury or Qingu's hand…thingy. Either way, it hurt, and left him with a feeling of great foreboding. Sure, he'd done some pretty stupid things in his life—agreeing to be a hostage, drinking tea an Ethiopian herbalist gave him for a cold, walking into a minefield to save a kid, stepping between two angry tribal leaders about to go to war. But being the prisoner of an ex-Sumerian-pseudo-god on a different planet? Maybe he was still tripping on the tea.

Qingu. He knew the name. He had brushed up on his Sumerian mythology as soon as he returned from Iraq only a few months ago…well, a few months ago plus seven years. Qingu was Tiamat's lover and her general in the war against the gods, something that did not go over particularly well. Actually, it wound up with both of them supposedly dead, which might explain why Qingu had to leave Earth. So how did everything tie together? More importantly, what did Qingu have in mind with him and where was Jack?

Daniel looked up as the door to his cell opened and Ekur walked in. He carried a bag in one hand and closed the door with the other, then stood patiently, waiting. Unable to approach because of the shackles that held him to the wall, Danny opted for conversation, instead.

"Hello."

Ekur didn't answer.

"Are you a—" What was the word? Ja…Jaf…Jaffa. "Are you Jaffa?"

That got his attention. "Yes. How do you know?"

"I heard the word used earlier. I'm not exactly sure what it means, though. I noticed that you have the same emblem on your forehead that one of my companions has. What is a Jaffa?"

Ekur pulled a stool over to where Daniel sat. "A Jaffa is a warrior to the gods. He does his god's bidding and fights for him. In return, Goa'uld larvae are allowed to mature within the Jaffa, which allows him health and longevity. Your friend was the first-prime to a god; I know because his emblem is gold. It is a high honor and makes him a formidable enemy. When they return for you, the fight will be great."

"What makes you think they'll come back for me?"

"Because you came back for them."

Daniel's brow furrowed. "But there were two of them and there's only one of me. Besides, I'm of no real value. My companions are all warriors; I'm only a student—that is, I'm not studying anything important. I mean, I _didn't_ study anything important." He desperately wanted to run a hand through his hair in an attempt to convey his frustration. Was the act cross-cultural? "What I'm _trying_ to say is that I don't know if they'll come back. Military people don't think the same as regular people."

Ekur shrugged, then cocked his head. "What did you study?"

"Oh, well, archaeology. And linguistics. And sociology. I spent a _lot_ of time studying. In fact, I was just recently researching ancient Sumerian mythology, which is quite a stroke of luck, considering the circumstances." He smiled a little, enjoying the opportunity to speak a dead language with a living native. Then he frowned, unhappy at the situation that allowed him such a privilege. What would Dr. Manning think? Or Dr. Masood? What would his _parents_ think? He blinked away the thoughts. "Have you ever studied anything?"

"Fighting."

"Right. Shoulda guessed that one on my own. So…what's going to happen to me?"

"Lord Qingu is coming here to ask you questions. He wants to know more about where you are from and those with whom you came. You should cooperate with him; he is all-powerful and very intent on getting whatever information you have. If you are not honest and forthcoming, you will experience great pain."

Danny nodded numbly. _"Why don't I go back?"_ he heard himself asking on the phonograph in his mind. Was he _insane_? Yeah, chalk another one up for Daniel Jackson: Masochist. As if supernaturally able to pick the perfect moment, Qingu walked in.

"I am pleased to see you awake."

"I wish I weren't."

"That could be arranged."

He shuddered. "Look, whatever you want to know, I can't tell you. This is completely fruitless." Danny frowned. Where had he learned the Sumerian equivalent of "fruitless?" The whole communication process, in fact, was far easier than he would have ever imagined.

"You seemed so fiery and adamant back in my throne room. Have things changed, child?" he asked with only a hint of ridicule. Unlike the brothers and sisters he hadn't seen in ages, Qingu long ago mastered moderation in the art of manipulation. And it truly was an art form. He grasped Daniel's face with a firm, slender hand. "These are the best accommodations I can afford you. Don't you appreciate my hospitality? After all, I _raised you from the dead_."

Daniel drew his head back. "Of course, I'm very grateful for the…resurrection. It's just that I'm _unable_ to tell you anything. I can't tell you what I don't know."

Qingu flicked a hand in the general direction of the bag Ekur had brought into the room. The Jaffa got up obediently and began unpacking large, painful-looking tools. Unconsciously, Danny stepped back a couple inches while the Goa'uld spoke.

"That is fascinating. In my throne room, you said you _wouldn't_ tell me anything, not that you _couldn't_. This leads me to believe that the problem on your part is due to a lack of willingness, rather than a lack of ability. Fortunately, I have a remedy. Jaffa, bring me the _shuhadaku_," he commanded while pulling out a small knife. He sliced easily through the fabric of Daniel's shirt, revealing smooth skin beneath, then manipulated the restraints so the prisoner faced the wall. Holding the _shuhadaku_ with practiced adeptness, he stepped back to get a good look at the target. Danny, white as a piece of clean printer paper, shook so hard that the chains rattled softly.

"Take comfort," Qingu soothed, "in knowing that I will not kill you."

He let the _shuhadaku_—a weapon somewhere between a whip and a branding iron—soar. Daniel almost flew off the ground as pain and fire coursed through his entire body. His cry was the strangled kind of a man too hurt and shocked to wail.

"Then again, perhaps that's not as much comfort as you would like."

* * *

Water touched his mouth and he hoped it wasn't his own tears. No. No, it felt too cool to be tears. Blinking—how could even _that_ be painful?—he saw an almost concerned Ekur, the source of the cup at his mouth.

"Thank you," whispered Daniel, having sipped carefully. It didn't dawn on him until afterwards that the drink could be poisoned. Then again, what poison could possibly cause him any more pain than he already felt. His throat felt raw from what he could only assume were screams and his wrists had blood and bruises on them from tugging and hanging.

"You should tell my master what you know," Ekur said without any bothersome pleasantries. "Then you can die quickly, in peace."

"What a lovely prospect." Actually, it didn't sound half bad. "But I _can't_. I don't _know_ anything. I tried to explain earlier, but nobody listened. Ekur, when I was on your planet the first time—when you captured the other two—I had an accident and hit my head. That erased my memory. I don't understand how the portal works, I don't know how we came to use it, I don't remember any previous interactions with Goa'ulds, and I especially don't know about Goa'ulds in human history."

"That will not satisfy him."

Sob? Scream? Laugh? Which emotion to choose? They all presented themselves at that moment. "Did it ever occur to you that a "_god_" as all-powerful as yours should be all-knowing, too? Or how about compassionate? Compassionate!" he yelled, choking back a cry while the shackles tugged at his wrists.

Ekur frowned. Not only had he never seen anyone react in Daniel's manner, he had never heard anyone echo the doubts about Qingu that he felt. The Jaffa moved closer so he could stare better into the eyes of his prisoner, who quieted down. "What you say is blasphemy," he stated cautiously.

"Ekur, I might not know much of anything right now, but this is the one thing I _do_ know: Qingu is not a god. He's some sort of advanced…alien…snake. That's pretty much all anybody told me before we came here." Danny stopped talking and gave Ekur a hard look—one which brightened with hope. "You believe me."

"I do not."

"But you have doubts about Qingu."

"Qingu is my god. He is all-powerful."

It hurt, but somehow Danny managed a slight smile. "Don't be afraid to question."

A moment of silent agreement passed before Ekur changed the subject. He asked why SG1 had come to Shin'ar, to which Daniel could honestly answer that he wasn't sure, but he assumed it to be exploratory; an opportunity to check out a new planet. That seemed to satisfy the young Jaffa, but not Qingu, who walked in on the explanation.

"Is that why your comrades brought weapons and were looking at our naquada?"

Daniel faltered. Naquada? He was understanding considerably more of Sumerian than he ever would have thought possible, but no translation for the word appeared in his mind. "I need you to explain "naquada" to me; I'm not familiar with it."

The corner of Qingu's mouth twitched and even Ekur looked incredulous. "Even if you _have_ lost your memory, you must surely know what naquada is—it powers the Chaapa'ai. It's the most valuable resource in the universe."

So, the Goa'uld had been listening in on their conversation; he'd heard Daniel's excuse for being unable to explain what the god wanted to know. "If you know about my amnesia, you know that I'm unable to tell you anything. All I know is everything that happened up to seven years ago and everything that's happened in roughly the past twelve hours." _Twelve hours already_, he thought sarcastically. _Golly, time sure flies when you're suffering torture at the hands of a megalomaniacal stomach parasite. I'm ready to wake up now from this nightmare_.

"Then tell me, child, what you remember up to seven years ago and from the past twelve hours."

"Well, I was born, my parents died horribly, I flitted through foster care, I went to university, passed out, and when I woke up, I was at a military base being told about your planet."

Qingu raised an eyebrow and pulled a tool from the bag. Danny's eyes nearly rolled into the back of their sockets from dread and fear. "Please," he whispered, fighting back tears unsuccessfully. "I've told you the truth! I don't _know_ anything!"

"You must. How else could you communicate with me so well? Your linguistic skills are extraordinary, and certainly honed from practice. Practice with other gods."

"Yes, probably! But it's practice I can't remember!"

Qingu held the weapon contemplatively. The young man before him seemed so earnest. Besides, any prisoner who had suffered through the _shuhadaku_, yet continued to insist on his own version of the facts, had to be telling the truth or certain of the lie.

"Very well. This matter can be resolved efficiently with the _kalashpeta_."

Daniel cocked his head. "I don't know the first word, but the second means to open…to open for someone."

"It is a device that will unlock the mysteries in your mind. It is difficult and painful—for me. It will _kill_ you. However, I will have all the answers I need. I shall have Telal prepare it. In the meantime," he declared, handing the torture device to Ekur, "you shall punish this Tau'ri who assuages the name of your god."

The joy of being left momentarily in peace fled Daniel and he began to shake again. His hope had been, briefly, that Jack would somehow rescue him before he incurred any further abuse. He looked over at Qingu. "You're going to kill me soon. Why do this also?"

The strapping god walked over to his captive and whispered, out of Ekur's earshot, "Your physical weakness makes the process of the _kalashpeta_ much easier on me, and this demonstrates my Jaffa's loyalty and obedience. You can go to the grave being right about my godhood, child, but I shall never join you there."

He turned on his heels but continued to address Daniel. "I trust you will not be too disappointed by my continued use of the _shuhadaku_, but I find it is very effective. If you had been aware of your screams the first time, I'm sure you would agree." He headed towards door, then turned around. Torture might be an art, but it thrilled him to the core. "Oh, and to allay your fears on whether your friends will return for you: I have been informed that they are still on the planet. My Jaffa will capture them shortly."

Qingu nodded once at Ekur, then opened the door.

The torture commenced

* * *

PLEASE REVIEW 


	8. Some Are Gold

A/N: Again, my great thanks to those of you who review. I hold you in high esteem. --your humble author

Chapter Eight: Some Are Gold

"Something's bothering me," Jack voiced as they trudged through the tall grass. It had been bothering him ever since they were captured. Actually, _numerous_ things were bothering him, not the least of which was whether Daniel was actually alive, if so, his state of mind, and how on Earth they were going to successfully pull off a search and rescue.

"I, too, am troubled, O'Neill."

"What's bugging you?"

Teal'C frowned. He did not appreciate idioms very much, even when he knew what they meant. "I am…bugged by the presence of militant Jaffa. If Daniel Jackson were correct in his theory, the larva that went through the Stargate thousands of years ago would already have matured, thereby populating this planet with full-grown Goa'ulds."

"Unless the Jaffa killed them."

"That is improbable given that, by the time the Goa'ulds reached maturity, they would have assumed their hosts' minds, as well as bodies. And it is also unlikely that the Jaffa killed their larva, since that would result in an excruciating death and render the population significantly smaller. However, I believe that Daniel Jackson was correct in his assessment that Goa'ulds and Jaffa came here."

Jack and Sam stopped in their trek. It wasn't like Teal'C to avoid a simple answer, but he seemed to need to think the matter out; Jack guessed he had interrupted his friend's thoughts when he voiced his own concern. Still, he wasn't in the mood. "Feel free to clarify."

"The Jaffa have tattoos on their foreheads."

He didn't get it at all. But Carter did, which kind of ticked him off. "Oh my gosh! There's a ruling Goa'uld here."

"Yes."

"It's been a long day; would someone mind being _explicit_?"

Sam nodded. "When someone becomes a Jaffa, he has the tattoo that represents his specific Goa'uld placed on his forehead. Given that Teal'C's was inlaid with molten gold, this isn't the kind of thing anybody would willingly do for fun, _especially_ not if that someone had fought against and escaped from his previous "god." And they're too well organized to be in factions, like we encounter with the System Lords; there's a single Goa'uld ruling here."

"All right, then. Our first order of business is to get back our weapons—or _any_ weapons for that matter. After that we can save Danny. Carter, when we get there, you keep your eyes peeled for weapons caches, hiding places within their village, and where Daniel might be. Teal'C I want an assessment of the Jaffa forces and what you think they're capable of; also, I want you alert us as to possible ambushes or if we're being followed. I'm gonna try to find whoever's in charge and put a large hole in his stomach. Everybody understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"I comprehend, O'Neill."

"And when we get where we're going, do _not_ stray too far in your reconnaissance; the goal here is to bring the number of neutralized team members down to _zero_. Now, let's keep moving because it's a long walk."

They filed on in silent rumination.

* * *

His brain slammed into the wall of consciousness with a thud and he gasped, but didn't move. Danny wondered if it were possible to be in more pain. _Every single nerve_ begged him to blackout again. Yet…it could have been worse. He distinctly recalled a couple minutes of agony while Qingu lingered at the door. Daniel could still hear his own screams and the soft chuckling of his captor. Then, as soon as the door closed, the source of the pain seemed to weaken to a fraction of its former strength. It still hurt, of course. Tears still streamed down his face. He still cried out. But he could breathe; he could think past the pain a little.

Suddenly, he had another person's face right in his own.

"You are awake?"

Ekur. "I'm not dead." His voice came out as a raspy whisper due to the wear on his throat. "What did that tool do to me?"

"It causes injury to…the inside of the body." He held a glass of what looked like water to Daniel's mouth. "Drink this," Ekur urged and gave his prisoner an imploring stare. Danny obeyed and found the liquid nauseatingly bitter.

"What do you know about the machine Qingu is going to use?

"Nothing. I have no need to know."

They sat in silence. Slowly, Danny began to feel a little drowsy and, more importantly, less pained. Obviously, whatever Ekur had put in the drink was meant to be an act of kindness. Languidly, Daniel pointed to the door, then to his eyes, and finally wagged his finger between the two of them. The Jaffa shook his head; no, no one was watching them. After a few more charades-type movements, they established that they could _point_ at will, but not speak.

Phrasing his words carefully, Daniel mentioned, "The tool you used is very painful."

"It is designed to inflict the maximum amount of damage possible without killing the person, although that is usually dependent upon medical care. My Lord Qingu used the highest setting when he dispatched your punishment. Some transgressions do not call for such severity, but you were blasphemous, impudent, and stubborn."

"So, it has different _levels_?"

"Yes."

They stared at each other for a moment. Was Daniel interpreting Ekur's body language and actions correctly? Surely this meant that mercy had been shown and the young Jaffa could be trusted somewhat. Danny sagged against the rocky floor; Ekur's potion hardly killed the pain, but it relieved some.

"Tell me about yourself."

Ekur looked surprised. No one had ever asked him about his life. "What—what do you want to know?"

"Well, how long ago were you born? What do you like and dislike? Do you have a family? What do you do in your spare time?"

"I was born twenty years ago. I like…" He stopped to think for a moment, and Daniel thought, briefly, that his new friend might mention jazz and moonlit walks on the beach. "I like to eat. And to play with my son."

"You have a son?"

"Yes, Melammu. He is one year old." Ekur beamed. "He is already very strong; one day he will grow up to be Qingu's prime, I think." The beaming stopped for a second as a shadow passed over his face. Then he continued, having covered his doubt in a mental shroud. "He is big, like I am, but attractive—like his mother." Another grin, this one a bit more sly. "Do you have a wife and children?"

Daniel laughed weakly. "No, no. I—" Wait. He _was_ married. To someone, somewhere, supposedly. "I…have a wife. I guess. I mean, I told you my memory was damaged, but I understand that I _did_ get married. I don't think we have children, though." He shook his head wearily. He had trouble keeping track of sleeping and eating. Now they expected him to remember _two lives_? The current one being distinctly unpleasant, which Danny hadn't thought possible, considering his life from ages eight to 22.

"Tell me about your planet?

Daniel thought for a moment. "Gosh, that's an extremely broad question. Well, the terrain looks very similar, which is to be expected on planets inhabiting life. And we don't have any…_beings_ like Qingu, unless you count dictators, which seem to be a proliferate bunch. For the most part, Earth is inhabited completely and divided into different sized countries of varying strength." He paused. What else was there to say? Was he expected to go into detail on the sociological aspects of thousands of cultures? It certainly didn't matter to Ekur. What would? "Y'know, _you_ came from Earth."

"No, I was born here."

"Oh, I don't mean you _specifically_. I'm talking about your ancestors." This only served to produce a mien of confusion in Ekur. "Let me try to explain: About 6500 years ago, there existed a country called Sumeria. It would later become part of the Babylonian Empire, then the Assyrian Empire, then the _neo_-Babylonian empire, followed by part of Greece, and, of course, part of Rome, eventually, then part of dar-al-Islam, which led it to be a part of the Ottoman Empire, although they were defeated in World War II, which caused the lands to fall primarily under British control, even when the Iraqi monarchy was established—it ruled under the authority of the British Empire—until the Ba'ath party took over and established modern-day Iraq as it now is." Danny stopped again. The look on confusion had grown steadily. "Right. Sorry. I'll try and stick to the main points.

"The Sumerians recorded their beliefs in the Enuma Elish. The tablets tell the story of a great battle between the gods. You see, Tiamat was the chief goddess who had given birth to later gods; she had a great deal of power. Enki—a younger god—killed Tiamat's mate, Apsu, because Apsu was planning to murder all of the younger gods. This so enraged Tiamat that she waged war on those responsible and created from her own being—you have to understand that she was like a primordial entity—ghastly monsters: Serpents, dragons, scorpion-men, demons, and similar creatures to fight under her new mate and general, Qingu."

Daniel paused to let the revelation take effect. It did not. The expression on Ekur's face had gone from intense bewilderment to a sort-of disconcerted intensity. But he didn't seem surprised to find out about Qingu's involvement. Himself confused, Danny continued.

"Tiamat gave Qingu the Tablets of Destiny, which indwelt considerable power in him. And for a short time, their victory seemed assured; Qingu's strategy of confusing the other gods worked. Unfortunately for them, this didn't last and Tiamat was forced to battle Marduk—he headed the opposing gods—which led to her death. The rest of the story follows that Marduk used Qingu's blood to create the first humans, but that theory doesn't hold much weight among scientists. However, if my hypothesis is correct, the battle and defeat truly happened and Qingu, learning of Tiamat's demise, fled to this planet to escape Marduk's wrath. With him, he brought your forefathers. Hence, you come from Earth."

Daniel smiled weakly. "Now, try to understand that I'm only just beginning to comprehend what's going on. I mean, in one day, I've had it proven to me that there's life on other planets, I travel the galaxy, and Earth's ancient myths are more…historical fiction than anything else. This isn't set in stone. Er—except for the Enuma Elish, since it was written on tablets. What do you think?"

"You," the Jaffa stated vehemently, "shall never speak again! Do not talk of this!"

Daniel could only gawk. Crap! What had he done _this_ time to elicit such a reaction? "I—I'm sorry," he faltered, holding his hands up in a pacifying surrender. "Whatever I did, I didn't mean—"

"Do not talk!" he shouted, standing up and aiming his staff weapon at the prisoner's head, for emphasis. "Such a thing never happened! You lie about my Lord Qingu!" For a moment, he struggled with his thoughts, and emotions flew over his face so quickly that Daniel couldn't assign one a name before another appeared. Finally, he bent down and pushed the aching archaeologist so hard against the wall that Danny thought he might be sick from the pain. "You are a liar," he whispered.

Ekur left without another word, leaving Daniel confused and scared.

* * *

Qingu's prime, Telal, retrieved the young man a few hours later. As Telal led him to the town square, Danny shook uncontrollably from the combination of physical torment and the understanding that he would soon die. He could barely walk and had to stop and throw-up half way there. When they arrived, he could see Qingu, a few priests and priestesses, and about ten other Jaffa waiting. In the very middle of their loose circle sat a large machine, which reminded Daniel of the bed Dr. Frankenstein used to make his monster in every movie. The uncanny resemblance continued down to the hand and foot shackles that would soon bind him.

While Telal locked him in place, Qingu positioned two electrodes on his temples. Sitting in a chair, the Goa'uld repeated the process on his own head, then turned to give his victim a smug look of superiority.

"Inside of you is the history of your entire planet. Everything humans have experienced and everything you have done are buried deep you. And, of course, your personal interactions, though momentarily forgotten, are exactly what this machine will entice from you. I hope the knowledge in your mind is worth this, young one. I am sure you do not wish to die for nothing."

"If—if you were really a g-g-god, you would—wouldn't have to d-do this."

Qingu's eyes narrowed and he reached for the lever next to him.

* * *

Jack, Sam, and Teal'C watched helplessly from a short distance. They could find absolutely no weapons except for rocks, which didn't stand much of a chance against even antique staff weapons. But they needed to do _something_, because each clearly understood the process before them would result in Daniel's death.

"Sir?" Sam questioned, hoping he might magically remember a stash of weapons in his pocket. Or at least that he might have a brilliant plan.

"We need to go down there."

"But we're unarmed."

"I _know_ that, Captain. However, we need to do _something_, despite having _nothing_. If only they didn't know that." His thoughts drifted aimlessly for a solution and made a quick detour around the random Star Trek episode he'd seen only a couple nights before. Could it possibly work? He looked down at his wristwatch and pondered its usefulness. Had Qingu ever see _The Corbomite Maneuver_? "They don't know we don't have weapons. What if we led them to _believe_ we did?"

"With what do you propose this, O'Neill?"

"Just follow my lead," Jack said, stepping determinedly forward.

* * *

They appeared just as Qingu's hand gripped the lever. The self-proclaimed god stopped and turned to face his guests with a slight smile. His head cocked as he noticed the humans holding their wrists and the Jaffa with some small package in one of his hands.

"You are utterly predictable," Qingu murmured satisfactorily.

"Only if you counted on us having weapons when we showed up."

Qingu raised an eyebrow and Daniel looked confused. He couldn't see terribly well without his glasses, which they had removed, but it seemed that Captain Carter and Colonel O'Neill were merely holding their wristwatches while Teal'C—Danny squinted harder—was he holding a chocolate bar?

"And you think you can somehow defeat me with those pitiful weapons? Against my many Jaffa who would incinerate you the minute you take your aim? You are gravely mistaken."

"We don't want to kill you. Actually, we do, but we won't if you give him back. Then we'll go and you'll stay and everyone will be happy and alive."

The god dropped his gaze down to Daniel, whose pale face accentuated his large eyes. Qingu's expression turned patronizingly soft. "Tell me, child, do they possess any weapons with which to free you? I should certainly think not, given how long they've waited to make use of such tools."

Danny gaped for a moment, but recovered quickly. "Of course they do! They're not crazy enough to come here without weapons! Well, one of them might be, but the others aren't. Let me go and you can go back to deceiving your followers uninterrupted."

A tense moment passed, then another. Daniel lay, praying. Teal'C, Sam, and Jack stood stock-still, also praying. Qingu eyed not only SG1, but his Jaffa. He could not back down. If he backed down, he would lose all credibility. And if he lost all credibility, that would be a fate worse than death.

Just as he prepared to order his Jaffa to shoot the intruders, Ekur stepped behind them with a staff weapon, which he thrust into Sam's back. Ekur smiled graciously at his god.

"You may proceed as you intended, my Lord."

Qingu's smirk spoke volumes more than Ekur's ingratiating grin. Not only did he now have all of SG1 under his control and the situation resolved without losing any face, he also had the assurance of Ekur's loyalty.

With that, Qingu leaned back in his chair and threw the lever.

* * *

A bright light fell on Daniel's face from above. At the same time, it felt as though a knife ground right through his skull. His body stiffened and his eyes grew wider as their pupils dilated. In that instant, he found himself standing in a hallway.

Light illuminated the hallway in the same manner that the sun lights a stretch of snow, and the corridor went on at both ends so that no echo could be made. As he grew accustomed to the brightness, he looked around and beheld absolutely nothing; no doors, no windows, no paneling, nothing except an expanse of white. Slowly, he turned to look behind him and found himself face-to-face with a mirror. Only, instead of his reflection, he saw what could only be described as the head of the alien from _Aliens_. Dimly, he realized it had to be Qingu.

Danny backed up against the wall behind him. He could _feel_ Qingu's presence in his brain and it terrified him. It was like having his greatest depressions drudged up to be relived in self-loathing. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, images began to flash on the mirror, all while Qingu's image remained like a watermark.

He saw Ancient Sumer, Egypt, Israel, Britain, China, India—_everything_. From country to country, images flashed across the mirror at warp speed and in chronological order. With the pictures, information relayed itself into both minds and the impact of experiencing human history in seconds left Daniel slowly sliding down the wall. His brain simply could not process all the information it received. He felt himself fall to the ground as his personal history hit his fading consciousness, although it didn't seem possible that he could lose consciousness in his own mind.

Then, suddenly, the two were torn apart with such ferocity that Danny's residual awareness found the means of relaying how painful the separation felt. His corporeal body promptly fell limp.

* * *

In the real world, tables had turned quickly. As soon as Qingu threw the lever, and while his Jaffa stood entranced by the procedure, Ekur pulled a zat out of his robes and covertly placed it in Jack's hand, which rested by his side. He also removed two pistols and quietly gave those to the other team members. In seconds, seven of the Jaffa were dead or disabled and Qingu's host had a bullet in his heart. The remaining Jaffa could only stare at the blood seeping from their god's chest. While Ekur, Sam, and Teal'C kept the guards at bay, Jack pulled the lever, grabbed a staff weapon, and blew a hole through the host's stomach.

"Is he alive?" Sam asked anxiously. Daniel didn't look alive as Jack unlatched the bounds.

"I've got a pulse. Barely. We need to get going _now_, because I don't think he's gonna make it much longer." He looked at Ekur, who seemed to understand the sense of urgency, but not the words they spoke, unlike Qingu had. Quickly, while lifting up his inert friend, Jack pointed to his team members, and then to the direction of the river. It was the only method of reaching the Stargate quickly. And they desperately needed quickly.

"_Alaku_." He pointed, and motioned for them to leave. He would take care of his stunned comrades and the consequences.

Jack nodded, let Teal'C heft Daniel onto one of his broad shoulders, and proceeded to zat the remaining guards. He didn't kill them, but he also didn't want them to overwhelm Ekur.

SG1 raced to the bank of the river and, working together, managed to get to the Stargate without anyone drowning. By the time Sam started dialing, Jack could find no pulse on Daniel. When they finally made it through the gate and back into the SGC, neither could Dr. Frasier.

* * *

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	9. Take the Long Way Home

A/N: Many thanks to those reviewed. They uplift me and encourage me to continue writing. I greatly appreciate it. By the way, does anyone think I made Jack too…kind…in this chapter? Watching the show, I find he's not overly protective or sympathetic to Daniel. Am I mistaken? Thanks. –your humble author

Chapter Nine: Take the Long Way Home

"How's the arm?"

Sam shrugged as they walked towards sickbay, where Dr. Frasier would inform them of Daniel's condition. One of the Jaffa's staff weapon blasts had grazed her forearm, causing a nasty burn. With the help of a local anesthetic, it didn't bother her at all. "Nothing I haven't experienced before."

"Indeed, Captain Carter, I believe you have experienced significantly worse injuries."

"Yeah, too bad there's no healing device around when you need one."

Dr. Frasier walked out of Daniel's room just as they walked in to sickbay. Her morose expression and beleaguered body language told them everything they didn't want to hear. She sat down heavily and three quarters of SG1 followed suit.

She had spent the past seven hours stabilizing him and trying to assess his multiple injuries. After getting his heart and breathing started once more, he went into code blue _again_ while they were attempting an MRI, following the CAT scan. Both revealed significant internal hemorrhaging and required immediate surgery to repair damaged organs. Oddly, he didn't have many outward signs of injury. She knew, however, that something was wrong when his blood pressure kept dropping. Janet sighed softly and pinched the bridge of her nose to futilely fight off her relentless headache.

"I'll be honest with you: The prognosis isn't good. He's in a coma right now and the damage to his internal organs is severe. Moreover, the brain activity we're detecting is minimal at best; if he makes it, it's highly unlikely he'll advance beyond a persistent vegetative state. I'm so sorry." She looked on the edge of tears with sadness and the fear she could have done something differently to create a better outcome.

Sam reached over and took Janet's hand. "Hey," she managed, barely holding back her own tears. She wouldn't let them see her cry, but it took a lot of effort. "You saved his life. If he wakes up—"

"_When_," Jack interrupted.

"_When_ he wakes up, he'll have you to thank."

Jack stood up. "Can we see him?"

"Yes. But don't stay in there too long. I want you three to try and get some rest. I know it won't be easy; I have some mild tranquilizers if you need them."

They nodded, although none of them would partake. Sam squeezed Janet's hand and offered a weak smile, then followed the Colonel and Teal'C into Daniel's dim and sterile room.

There he lay, his life seemingly gone like the heat and glow from a burning log turned to ash. They had him hooked up to an EKG machine, a blood pressure machine, a heart monitor, an oxygen saturation monitor, a ventilator, oxygen, and an EEG machine. Tubes, cords, and IVs ran across and through his entire body, while restraints kept his arms at his sides. He looked small and fragile, like a delicate soap bubble that breaks with the slightest touch. They barely went near him.

"What do we do now, O'Neill?" Teal'C asked solemnly after a few moments.

Jack took a deep breath, which wavered faintly, if not noticeably. "I don't know. Pray."

* * *

They took unspoken turns watching over him. Approximately eight hour shifts for each member, with the occasional appearance from General Hammond, Sergeant Siler, Sergeant Harriman, and various other concerned staff members. Of course, Janet and her nurses checked in hourly. Actually, they removed his ventilator 24 hours after inserting it, then upped their prognosis from "50/50 chance of survival" to "life-long coma." It in no way uplifted SG1, especially Jack, who spent all of his shift and most of Sam and Teal'C's in brooding meditation.

Carter stood outside Janet's office with the doctor and General Hammond a couple days later. They spoke in hushed tones while Jack slept lightly in Daniel's room and Daniel lingered in limbo between death and life.

"Physically, he's more stable; I feel that, without any complications, his _body_ will heal fairly quickly. For some reason," she stated softly, unaware of Ekur's kind medicine, "his body is recovering faster than I thought I would. I mean, I'm not talking about a miracle here, but it's a bit eyebrow raising."

"However…?"

Janet turned her empathetic gaze on Sam and smiled sadly. "However, despite all of your vigils, Daniel's brainwave activity has not improved. He's still in a coma and will remain there. At best, he will wind up in a persistent vegetative state. I wish there were something—_anything_—I could do, but the only real activity is in the brainstem."

As she spoke, a tiny spike appeared on Danny's EEG machine. No one noticed, including Jack, who couldn't read an electroencephalogram if his life depended on it. But another tiny spike followed the first, which preceded a slightly bigger one. Slowly, the spikes increased in quality and quantity, as though someone was going around the archaeologist's brain, flicking on lights throughout.

Daniel, who had known no awareness or thoughts for three days, drew in a gasp like a man finally breaking water after a long trip to the surface. This instantly roused Jack, who opened his eyes in time to see his friend choke out "Sha'uri," before bursting into uncontrollable sobs of anguish and heartbreak.

"_Doc_!" Jack yelled, flying from his seat to comfort Danny. He put his arms around the young man and gently pulled him into his shoulder, which seemed an appropriate place for a friend to cry. If anybody questioned his manliness, though, he'd kindly introduce them to his Irish temperament.

Dr. Frasier, Sam, General Hammond, and two nurses raced into the room. A beat passed before the medical personnel could recover from the shock of seeing their coma patient weeping and clinging to their stubborn visitor. Nevertheless, they quickly broke into action, checking machines, carefully extracting the two men, examining, and administering aid. Daniel cried for the entire fifteen minutes it took them to get settled. Sam held his hand while Jack hovered protectively.

As soon as she had things in order, Janet pulled up a chair and sent Nurse Kincaid to get Teal'C. She wiped Danny's tears and waited for Jack's strong presence and Sam's tender cooing to calm her patient. Eventually, he could meet her stare with his own weak and weary eyes.

"Daniel, can you remember your entire life?"

He nodded slowly.

"And do you remember what happened to you on P3X-772?"

Another nod prompted Jack to chime in, "Great, then maybe you could tell us."

"Colonel." Dr. Frasier's tone was not reprimanding, merely informative; she needed him to be quiet so she could assess things from a medical point of view. "Tell us what you remember after being captured."

"A lot of it's like a dream—I mean, a nightmare." Having prefaced his memories with such a disclaimer, Danny related waking up in the sarcophagus, meeting Qingu, his first experience with the _shuhadaku_, his talk with Ekur, the second experience with the _shuhadaku_, and then what happened with the _kalashpeta_. "Now I know that what happened in Sumeria resulted in Qingu's exile on Shin'ar. He _is_ Qingu from Sumerian mythology. Jack, I think that's why my brain…regressed, so to speak; I needed to remember everything I'd studied after returning from Iraq and I needed to remember it _instantly_."

"But how on Earth did you manage to wake up? Dr. Frasier said you'd be in a coma forever," Jack said from the edge of the bed.

"You know how when a computer experiences an error, you can usually fix it by rebooting?"

"Danny, I hate computers."

He turned to Sam. "You know how when a computer experiences an error, you can usually fix it by rebooting?" She nodded. "It's as if my brain had to do that. Whatever Qingu did, it overloaded my circuits. I think."

"I'm just glad you're you again," Sam told him fondly.

The whole group, now joined by Teal'C, nodded their agreement. They all seemed awed and aghast by Daniel's experiences. They shook their heads, grateful to have everything sorted out and over. Soon, he would recover and everything could get back to normal.

Dr. Frasier chose that moment to speak up. "My patient needs his rest. Your brain may have rebooted, but your body hasn't."

As everyone moved towards the door, Daniel raised his hand and grabbed Jack's sleeve. The Colonel looked down with concern; if Danny wanted him to stay, he'd do that in a heartbeat. Actually, he'd only planned on leaving for a short while—long enough to make Dr. Frasier think he'd left for good. "What's the matter?"

Daniel's eyes held the ghostly look of a man who had seen and knew too much. "Jack…Qingu isn't dead."

Everyone stopped instantly.

"What are you talking about?" Jack laughed nervously. "I shot him myself; right in the stomach. Bang—crispy critter."

"You shot the host, but Qingu was already leaving his body. For Heaven's sake, he's a Goa'uld. Self-preservation is his priority."

All eyes looked from Danny to Jack. "How could you possibly know this? You were half-dead at the time."

"Yes, but Qingu was in my head. I could…feel him." The pitiable scholar shuddered to admit to such intimate contact with a Goa'uld. "He was out of the host on time and with plans, Jack. Big plans."

* * *

No one seemed quite certain if they should grill the exhausted man for information or let him rest. Dr. Frasier heartily voted for rest; she could tell from the way he lagged against his pillow and the shallow, labored breaths that he didn't truly have the energy to expound on the latest crisis. Even those not as in tune with the human body noted how his eyelids drooped and he couldn't seem to focus his gaze.

"Son," General Hammond began, "I really don't think Qingu can cause us much trouble, given the iris—"

"No!" Daniel interrupted as forcefully as he could, which wasn't very forcefully at all. "You don't understand." He had so much to tell them! Why couldn't Janet just give him some sort of stimulant? "Qingu saw all of human history in my mind. So did I, but it was too much for me to process; all I remember are a few fragments and my own life." He licked his lips contemplatively and his eyes fluttered about, looking for something to give him peace of mind. He felt so guilty! So horribly guilty! How could he relate what he'd let happen? How could he tell them Qingu knew about the SGC? About Apophis and Ra? Finally, he closed his eyes and willed himself to come clean.

Daniel described the _kalashpeta_ as something very much like the device Nem used on the planet where SG1 was programmed to think him dead. Jack asked why none of the other Goa'uld had used it on them. Danny explained that, if he understood correctly, the device could pose a serious threat to the well-being of the Goa'uld and, as their previous interactions demonstrated, no Goa'uld happily embraced a threat to his or her well-being.

"Qingu knows about us. He knows how we got the Stargate, about Abydos, Ra, Apophis, the iris, our security measures—he knows nearly everything; he'd know more if you hadn't zat him when you did and interrupted his processing of the data. We need to stop him."

Hammond nodded and started out the door, followed by Jack, Sam, and Teal'C. "I'll assemble a group to strike preemptively on his camp. We'll—"

Daniel interrupted him again. "Wait, please! There's more. Qingu isn't on Shin'ar anymore. He left for Chulak." He couldn't bear to look at Teal'C. "We have to go there and destroy him before he garners more power and makes alliances. Those were his plans, in addition to conquering Earth."

"How many Goa'ulds do we have to kill before they take the hint?"

"All right, then, we'll assemble a team to neutralize the danger from P3X-772 and cut off any access to his home base. Then we'll interrogate the Jaffa there and use that information to search out and destroy Qingu. The team to P3X-772 will leave in 24 hours and the mission to Chulak is set to go as soon as we have enough data."

As they left, Jack lingered long enough to lend a few encouraging words and see Daniel try and get out of the bed. He, Dr. Frasier, and Nurse Kincaid all rushed to stop him.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I have to help," Danny argued, feebly struggling under Jack's hands.

"The hell you do! You are not getting out of this bed until Dr. Frasier declares you completely healthy. You're lucky I'm not making her keep you here permanently. I will not have you risking your life again! Do you understand me?"

"But it's my fault!" he cried, then began sobbing again. "Everything here is my fault! I didn't get us off the planet sooner and I let myself get captured and I revealed everything to Qingu and I let my parents die and I didn't stop Apophis from taking Sha'uri…" His stream of words gradually turned into blubbered cries. Jack couldn't comprehend Daniel's pain or guilt; there was no way of knowing the young man had clearly relived every heart wrenching moment of his personal past.

While Jack tried vainly to comfort Danny, Janet quietly motioned to Nurse Kincaid to covertly retrieve a strong sedative. In as inconspicuous a manner as possible, Janet injected the syringe into Daniel's IV and waited for the effects. She didn't have to wait long.

"Jack," Danny whispered, still clutching his friend's arm and edging into unconsciousness. "I'm so sorry. I'm so—please forgive me."

When Daniel's head fell back against the pillow, Jack released himself from the now-limp grip and stood up straight, fists at his sides. He would supremely enjoy killing Qingu.

* * *

Much to Dr. Frasier's chagrin and Jack's pure annoyance, they actually _needed_ Daniel's help. After capturing Qingu's base on P3X-772, the SGC had enough Jaffa to interrogate and glean information from. Unfortunately, they had no way of communicating. Only Danny could speak their language, which he gladly did from his hospital bed and under the supervision of four guards, Jack, Sam, Teal'C, General Hammond, and Dr. Frasier. Teal'C could understand bits and pieces, since his native tongue shared things in common with Qingu's guards', but not enough to take over for his friend.

After fifteen minutes of the very first interview, Daniel gasped in horror and fell back against his pillows. Every single person moved forward with queries and concerns; the guards leveled their weapons.

"What's wrong?"

"What happened?"

"Are you okay?"

"Are you unwell, Daniel Jackson?"

"Sir, permission to end this right now?"

Danny stopped them all with a wave of his hand. "No, it's just…he told me…Oh, how do things keep getting _worse_?" With a resigned sigh, he turned his gaze on Jack. "Qingu took Ekur as a host." He successfully struggled to fight back tears. "He promptly murdered Ekur's wife and son as a show of power. Jack, he used Ekur's own body to…to drown them both in the river."

Nobody said anything. What could they say? Instead, the interrogation continued, with a somewhat rapid exchange of words and the occasional reminder to _translate_, when Danny got too involved in his discussion. They learned that Qingu took a large contingent of Jaffa to Chulak to recruit Apophis's former guards, contact the System Lords, and essentially appropriate all of Apophis's power. After all, he didn't need it any more, what with being dead.

The succession of prisoners simply added details to Daniel's prediction. Within 48 hours, they knew much of Qingu's plans from the messages he'd sent back to Shin'ar. His plans were actually succeeding quite well. Soon, Danny knew, Qingu would set his sights on his ultimate goal: Total System Lord domination and, logically, power over the entire universe. Daniel tried to pacify himself with the knowledge that such a goal was wholly unviable. What were the chances? Then again, what were Alexander the Great's chances?

* * *

As Danny woke up from a Frasier-enforced nap, he found Jack looking down at him, not unconcerned, but not frantically worried, either. He seemed quite at peace with the present situation; Daniel had his memory back and wouldn't be in danger for a good while, and he could go kill the person who'd caused all the trouble. He didn't fear the ensuing confrontation with Qingu, because Jack knew his side would win. They'd killed Ra. They'd killed Hathor. They'd killed Apophis. Qingu would just be another notch in the SGC's belt. Jack grinned.

"I'm going with you."

Jack frowned. "You're what?"

"I'm going with you to Chulak."

"Has Doc Frasier got your drugs too high or something? Do you seriously think anybody's gonna let you leave sickbay, let alone the planet?" Jack snorted his disbelief, then gave Danny a hard look. "If you try to leave this bed, I will personally handcuff you to it."

Daniel stared back, only harder. "I have got four reasons for you, Jack: First, I know Qingu better than any of you; I've been in his _mind_. Second, because I was in his mind, I'll be able to find him on Chulak far faster than anyone else. Third, I want my revenge. Lastly, I swear I will leave SG1 if you don't let me come. Try me, Jack—I'm not bluffing."

Actually, he was. About the last part, only; he couldn't quit the SGC because that would end his chances of finding Sha'uri—the one person for whom he made himself go on.

"Danny," Jack whispered, vacillating between incredulousness and pleading. The first two arguments practically required him to give in; that sort of strategic value—especially since Qingu didn't know Daniel was alive—could make a real difference in keeping the rest of the party alive. The third reason he could empathize with. As for the quitting, Jack knew it to be a lie as much as Danny did. "Frasier'll never go for it and Hammond probably won't, either. Besides, you're in no position to go on a mission, especially one like this; your health would be a liability for _us_, you know."

"The matter is non-negotiable, Jack. I've recovered enough to get this done and Janet can't _force_ me to stay here; I'm a civilian, remember?"

"The last time we argued about something like this, you got captured and tortured by Qingu."

"And we saved Sam and Teal'C."

Jack, seeking strength, looked up at the ceiling. He didn't find any strength there. "All right, I'll go talk to General Hammond. _If_ I can convince him—"

"You'd better."

"_IF_ I can convince him of your importance to this mission, he'll order Dr. Frasier to let you go. But," he added sharply, pointing a finger at his teammate, "when we get back, I am tying you to this bed and posting guards outside the doors. Got that?"

"Gotten."

* * *

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	10. Making Amends

A/N: The second to last chapter! Yay! Deep thanks to those who reviewed and brought me a little extra joy. Your time and effort don't go unappreciated. –your humble author

Chapter Ten: Making Amends

Hours later, Daniel stood firmly on the embarkation platform. Inside, he shook from pain, fear, and psychological trauma. Everyone eyed him nervously. Janet couldn't seem to decide between indignation and worry. Jack, Sam, and Teal'C all shared glances. Hammond regretted giving his approval, the events of only a few days ago too fresh in his mind. In everyone's minds.

"MALP has released the gas and the guards appear to be unconscious." Everybody looked up at Sgt. Siler, who shrunk back in his seat. "The, um, gate looks secure."

Jack nodded gravely and pulled out his gun. "Let's go."

* * *

SG teams one, four, seven, and eight stepped onto Chulak's solid ground. SG1's archaeologist stumbled and fell to one knee when the gate spit him out. He straightened without help, took a deep breath, and carried on with the same grim expression he'd worn for days. The expression hid everything he didn't want others to see, and it succeeded, except with his teammates. 

"Daniel," Jack beckoned. "D'you have any idea where Qingu might be?"

"Apophis's palace."

"You sure?"

Danny finally turned his face toward Jack. He looked…haunted. "Yeah. I'm sure."

They split up and decided to approach Apophis's commandeered compound from all four directions. Everyone walked in silence, lest they should alert even the bunnies in the forest. Fortunately, neither the bunnies nor Qingu thought he'd be encountering a threat any time soon, least of all the dead Daniel Jackson. The fear that, perhaps, Qingu could sense him as much as he could sense Qingu worried Daniel; but his gut instinct told him that, since the Goa'uld had entered his mind instead of the other way around, the edge stood in Earth's favor.

"Sir!" Sam whispered, simultaneously ducking and pointing with her gun. They followed her direction and saw two Jaffa silently walking the outer perimeter of the massive fortress. From the information provided by Shin'ar's inhabitants, Qingu had taken approximately 500 of his best men on the mission, leaving a mere hundred behind. Presumably, he wanted to assimilate Apophis's guard into his own.

Jack and Teal'C pulled out their zats and diffused the threat. "Great," Jack remarked softly, turning to look at his team. "Two down, 498 more to go. Carter, go look around the edge of the entrance and tell me if you see anyone. Teal'C take point and make sure we're not being tailed. Daniel, are we getting closer?"

Danny nodded. "We need to step back into the brush and follow this wall past the gate to the wall that's perpendicular. We can enter from there."

Jack's brow furrowed slightly. Earlier, Daniel had stated that he couldn't know what Qingu was thinking or really anything more than the Goa'uld's general location. The new information seemed oddly specific. Besides, they'd be impeding on SG8's territory.

"Are you sure?"

"We need to go that way and keep our eyes peeled for Jaffa coming in the opposite direction."

The Colonel gave his assent with a shrug and called back Carter and Teal'C, who reported, respectively, that they saw ten and no one. As they moved in silence toward their goal, a few hundred meters in the distance, one of their team members slipped away. He had a plan.

He was going to surrender.

* * *

Danny walked through the entrance with his arms raised. Had one of the guards not been shocked to see a formerly dead prisoner, Daniel would surely have been shot. Instead, the single flabbergasted sentry started a bit of a ruckus, running forward and jabbing with his staff weapon at the archaeologist. Was he real? An apparition? How could this mortal be walking? _Was_ he a mortal? 

"I have come to see Qingu," Daniel told them as steadily as he could. Being on the receiving end of a staff weapon always made him uneasy. "I surrender, but I must speak with him."

All the Jaffa looked at each other, trying to decide if such an action would be prudent. Here was a man, come back to life, who had followed them through the Chaapa'ai, and now wished to willingly surrender to their god. This didn't happen every day.

Tentatively, the lead guard—the one who recognized Danny—stepped aside and pointed for Daniel to walk ahead of him and into the compound. He would let Telal deal with this development.

Together, they walked inside and up many flights up stairs. Daniel could _feel_ Qingu's presence as he neared the god's room—the same sensation as when they'd shared minds. It wasn't a good feeling. With every step forward, a bigger, stronger wave of…hopelessness? washed over him. He'd known anxiety and depression growing up. Heck, he'd known anxiety and depression from after his parents' death until he met Sha'uri and ever since her kidnapping. But at the moment, the intense feelings swallowed him up. He wondered if, given their proximity to one another, Qingu could feel him, too. He got his answer when the Goa'uld flew out of his chambers, his cape fluttering behind him.

"_You_!"

Daniel stood face-to-face with Ekur/Qingu. The young man had to discreetly catch his breath while quelling the panic and merely gave his enemy a pensive stare. Telal and a few other of Qingu's personal guards levied their weapons. Everyone engaged in a staring contest until Daniel broke it.

"I've come to surrender."

Qingu's suspicious frown upturned itself into a seductive smile. He didn't want to seduce Daniel, though; unlike most of his fellow gods, Qingu didn't have sex with any and every thing that came his way. He only engaged others in that manner only for revenge or to achieve an end; otherwise, his heart belonged to his beloved Tiamat. No, Qingu wanted to seduce the situation.

"I am pleased you have decided to surrender yourself to me. As all of my children know, I am happy to show mercy and kindness to those who seek it," he said magnanimously and ushered his prisoner into Apophis's private sitting room, waving away Telal who sought to accompany them. He smiled benevolently from the doorway, praised the Jaffa who'd brought Daniel and sent him away, then closed the door.

Before Danny could even react, he found himself pushed up against the wall and roughly frisked. He had to bite his lip to keep the tears of pain at bay. Truly, he was in no way physically fit to be on this mission. Besides, Qingu was going to find—

"Ha!" Qingu scoffed triumphantly, holding up a zat. "Do I look foolish to you, boy? I will admit I am very surprised to see you alive, although I began to sense something unusual as you came near here. But this futile attempt at an assassination is laughable. And now I have the enjoyable option of keeping you alive to watch me take over the universe or kill you slowly."

"Do you seriously expect Earth to just give up? You were in my head; you know what we're capable of."

"That's exactly it, boy: I _do_ know what you're capable of. That is how I'll conquer your planet, gain the respect of my fellow System Lords, and then conquer them, as well. But you already knew that. Just as I know you didn't come alone."

Daniel's brow creased. "Do you think we all came here and then they sent _me_ to assassinate you? I did this on my own and, while we're speaking, they're changing every code on the entire base." They had already done that. "If there're two things we humans are good at, they're temerity and tenacity."

"Then why did _you_ come?"

Danny eyed Qingu scornfully. "To free Ekur and make amends."

The Goa'uld's upper lip quivered with a sneer. "I'm going to keep you alive. And you'll watch me conquer Earth. You'll watch me slaughter every person in your precious SGC and bring each feeble government to its knees. Then you'll witness my takeover of the System Lords. But you know what I'll enjoy showing you the most?" He moved closer to his pale, pained, pathetic prisoner and laid a gentle hand on Danny's chest. "When I find Ammonet, you shall be present as I claim her for my own wife. Of course, as she writhes under me, I suppose you'll only see the face of _your_ own wife. Or, at least, what's left of her.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to verify whether or not your friends have come." Qingu then departed, leaving a Jaffa to guard Daniel with orders to shoot if the prisoner moved or spoke. Given his colossal failure, Danny felt tempted to do both.

* * *

"O'Neill, Daniel Jackson is no longer with us." 

Jack and Sam spun around, brought out of their watchfulness by Teal'C's announcement. They looked left. The looked right. Jack sprinted past Teal'C and looked towards their last location. He found nothing until he glanced down and saw Daniel's gun.

"Do you think they took him, sir?" Sam asked.

"No. I think he left. He's gone in to get Qingu himself.

"Surely you don't think he'd be that foolish."

"Captain, _I_ think _he_ thinks he knows what he's doing. The only problem is that he doesn't. Try as he might, Danny isn't cut out for espionage or conflict; but Qingu is. He may have just given us away." Without waiting for his 2IC or Teal'C to comment, Jack reached for his radio. "Sierra Golf four, seven, and eight, we have a situation. Report."

"Sierra Golf four reporting in."

"Sierra Golf seven here."

"Sierra Golf eight reporting. What's wrong, Colonel?"

Jack ground his teeth. He was _really_ starting to hate the way Daniel wandered off. "Daniel's gone AWOL to confront Qingu. That means our positions may be compromised."

"He might have succeeded in assassinating him," Sam offered weakly to dubious glances.

"What're we gonna do, Colonel?"

Jack let his eyes glaze over as he mustered up a plan that would, essentially, allow him to save Daniel, kill Qingu, and keep anyone else from getting hurt. Simply wonderful. Would this malarkey never end? How could he…? The idea floated into his brain in the same way that a paratrooper gently falls from the sky. He loved it when that happened.

"Sierra Golf four, send two of your men to the Stargate to await departure; we're gonna have to haul it and I don't want to wait for dialing. Seven and eight, I want you to converge on what we designated the eastern side of the palace, but stay out of sight with your weapons drawn. Teal'C and Carter will move there and call the guards' attention; you are to wait until Captain Carter gives you the signal to join in their fight, at which point I want you attracting and destroying as many Jaffa as possible. You will do this for as long as you can, then go to the Stargate and return home. If Daniel and I haven't joined you by then, you are hereby ordered to go without us. We will follow. Am I understood?"

A chorus of "yessirs" rang over the radio, followed by silence as the teams began obeying.

"What's the plan, sir?"

Jack strapped the radio back into his vest and sat down on a tree stump. "I'm going to have you," he said, pointing at Teal'C, "pretend you're still one of Apophis's cronies. You're gonna hold Carter and claim you captured a human and want a reward. When they come, you'll both take care of them. But don't do it until you're sure they've sent out a call for help. I want you to distract just as many of them as possible. I'll make my way into the compound, find Daniel, and kill Qingu. I'm gonna need time and as few guards as possible. You got that?"

"Indeed, O'Neill. I must caution you, however, that your plan is unlikely to succeed."

Jack grinned. "When has that ever stopped us before?"

Sam returned his smile. "Indeed, sir."

* * *

"You ready?" Sam whispered, wiggling a little to get more comfortable in Teal'C's grip. She'd never noticed before how hard his muscles felt; his wife mustn't have enjoyed snuggling in bed. 

"I am. Are you also prepared?"

"Yep. On three: One…two…_three_! Help! Uh…help me!" She struggled lightly and mentally kicked herself for never taking drama class in high school.

"_Jaffa_! _Kree_! _Bradio_!" He knew they would understand "Jaffa," but he couldn't be sure Qingu's guards knew Goa'uld commands. He kept repeating his calls until the sound of men trampling through the forest rang in his ears.

A small horde appeared with their weapons drawn, although they relaxed slightly when they saw another Jaffa holding a very fair woman. They didn't even notice as she reached for something at her side.

They _did_ notice when she shot the guard farthest to the left. Then the Jaffa who had been holding her aimed his staff weapon at them and killed the man on their right. Suddenly the female yelled something and ten more people appeared, firing guns and zat weapons.

Qingu's Jaffa radioed for help and played directly into Jack's plan.

* * *

Jack waited for his moment and then crept into the palace's courtyard. Everyone was distracted with what they assumed was a full-scale attack. Knowing for sure that the Goa'uld was in the palace, he assumed Qingu would want to occupy Apophis's former quarters and had asked Teal'C for their location. As he weaved inside, he decided he needed to get Teal'C something nice for all the guy's hard work and wealth of knowledge. Maybe a new fishing pole or tackle box. 

His Black Ops training paid off in abundance as he evaded and then dispatched the occasional guard in the halls.

He hit pay dirt when he happened upon a large, ornate doorway guarded by two heavily armed Jaffa. Jack knew, though, that no amount of weaponry made up for a surprise attack; weapons are useless if the equipped is lifeless.

Jack waited for a moment after zatting the guards, expecting others to come running or, hopefully, Qingu to pop out and ask what had happened. Something nagged at the back of his mind, though, as he nestled out of sight. Had he heard an extra thud? His brow furrowed, his mouth hung open slightly, and he tried to replay the adrenaline-filled moment in his mind. It dawned on him that the other thud had come from behind the closed doors, leading him to believe the fallen victim might be Daniel.

The Colonel raced for the door and flung it open, his gun ready to disintegrate Qingu. Instead, a staff weapon blast put a hole in the door only millimeters from his head. Without thinking, Jack discharged the zat gun and realized only a moment later that he'd hit Daniel.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud!" he exclaimed as he rushed to his fallen comrade. The hit knocked him out, but only momentarily; after a minute of somewhat forceful prodding from Jack, Danny opened his eyes.

"Why'd'you shoot me?" he asked from his position on the floor.

"I could ask you the same thing. You almost took off my head."

"Sorry," the archaeologist mumbled as he struggled to sit up. "I thought you were someone else. What are you doing here?"

Jack glowered. "Again, _something I could be asking you_."

"I only did what I thought I had to do."

"No. You did what you _wanted_ to do. Dammit, Daniel, I have got Carter and Teal'C and _three _other teams out there _risking_ their lives because you decided to wander off and get your revenge. I understand you wanna kill Qingu—hey, so do I—but you're being stupid, irresponsible, and dangerous. For cryin' out loud, Daniel! I _have_ assassinated people before; you study _rocks_! _Do_ you have a death wish?"

Danny felt torn between angry at Jack's outburst and ashamed at its truth. "I hate him, Jack. I hate him and Apophis and _all_ of them. I don't understand how they can…do…what they do. But I hate them _so much_."

Jack's exasperation melted a little. "I know you do. I hate them, too, but there's a reason I don't go gallivanting off when I want one dead. Besides, we got Apophis, didn't we?"

"Technically, we disobeyed General Hammond's direct orders, commandeered the Stargate, and gallivanted off to fight Apophis. Oh, and we risked legal proceedings."

Jack pursed his lips. Leave it to Daniel to ruin a perfectly good point. "But we always do it as a _team_, right?"

Daniel actually smiled a little and seemed strengthened by the reminder that he had his team to lean on. "Yeah, we always do it as a team."

"_That's_ the space monkey I know."

"So what're we gonna do?"

"We? Nothing. You're gonna hide out in the corridor with a staff weapon, in case any Jaffa decide to show up while—hey." He finally noticed the dead Jaffa by the door. "How did that happen?"

This time Daniel grinned proudly. "I might study rocks, but I study people, too. You're a fascinating subject…and a good teacher. When I came here, Qingu took my zat, but he never found the little pistol I had tucked in my waist; I faked sick, doubled over, grabbed the gun, and killed the guard. Actually," he admitted as the grin faded, "I wish there had been some other way. He was a slave, just like all the other Jaffa. He didn't deserve to die."

"You did the right thing. And it's nice to know that the old faking sick thing still works. Anyway, you hide out there with a staff weapon, in case any unwanted company shows up. I'm gonna stay in here with a staff weapon and wait for Qingu. The minute he steps through that door, I'm gonna put a hole in his stomach so big, you could fly an F-15 through it."

Danny grimaced. "What a lovely mental picture."

"Yeah, just go stay out of sight. And if you do anything stupid—"

"I think I'm done with that."

"For today, at least."

Daniel only raised an eyebrow as he walked out, perfectly aware that Jack did _way_ more than his fair share of stupid things. He crouched low in the same corner Jack had hid in and immediately regretted doing so. He wondered if the pain would ever cease.

"See anything?" Jack whispered loudly after a few minutes.

"Not yet. I imagine everyone's a little preoccupied with your ruse."

They waited in tense silence. Daniel tried to relax his taut muscles, but every time he got one to loosen up a little, all the others responded by constricting further. Truly, both men hoped their target would show up soon so they could end the nightmare. Sadly, as they had long ago discovered, enemies rarely sought to help them.

A muffled thud drew Danny's attention from looking for Jaffa in the corridor to Apophis's quarters. A moment later, he heard Qingu's patronizing voice.

"Come in here, child."

"Daniel, g—"

The archaeologist's breath caught in his throat as he heard Jack's urgent warning get cut off. He couldn't see either man from his position. Slowly, he stood up, valiantly fighting off the terror-induced paralysis. He armed the staff weapon and inched his way to the door. A few meters away, he saw Qingu holding a knife to Jack's throat and using him as a shield. The situation looked hopeless. As usual.

"Will you kill him to kill me?" Qingu taunted, applying more pressure to the knife so it sliced through the first couple layers of dermis. Jack winced, but kept his attention focused on Daniel.

"Shoot," he commanded breathlessly.

Danny knew he had to do _something_. He couldn't shoot Jack, but he couldn't give up. If he shot at Ekur's head—the only available target—he risked the Goa'uld leaving the host's body and entering his friend's. Fear and pressure reverberated in Daniel's breast and he thought his heart might explode through his ears.

"Put down the staff weapon or I will spill all of his blood onto your conscience."

Jerkily, Daniel began to raise his leveled weapon until it pointed at the ceiling above Qingu and Jack. He tensed in anticipation and then activated the trigger, sending a bolt into the plaster and taking the Goa'uld completely by surprise.

Qingu threw Jack away and stepped back to avoid getting hit by falling chunks. Simultaneously, he brought up his hand to blow Daniel out the door, but didn't have the opportunity. Daniel fired at Qingu/Ekur's stomach, effectively killing the Goa'uld. And the host.

"Daniel," Ekur rasped from the floor, dying. "_Damiq resussun_…_damiq_…" His death rattled echoed in the room and stung Danny's soul.

"What did he say?" Jack asked, getting up and rubbing his head where Qingu had struck him.

"'Good help.' I think…I think he wanted me to kill him."

"You okay?"

Daniel shrugged and finally tore his eyes from Ekur's fallen form. "I hope so. Are you?"

"Yeah."

"Jack, we need to leave here as quickly as possible; I think I'm gonna pass out as soon as this adrenaline wears off."

Jack nodded once and together they raced for the Stargate, where all the SG teams were waiting for them. Once back on Earth, Daniel promptly found his way to the infirmary and crumpled onto a bed. He slept more peacefully this time, safe in the knowledge that Qingu could hurt no one else. Yet, to his weary spirit, it seemed as though the fighting might never end and would forever plague them with pain and death.

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	11. Better Than the Past

A/N: This is the end. I hope you've enjoyed the story. I would greatly appreciate your reviews. Thanks. –your humble author.

Better Than the Past

Jack placed his finger under the page in anticipation of reaching its end, then quickly pushed the paper forward onto those he had already studied. Danny's file read like a novel—_way_ more interesting than Carter's, but that was probably because hers included the usual military boringness.

He'd never read Daniel's file. He hadn't had the opportunity before going to Abydos for the first time and, after returning, he didn't have a reason to. When they reunited under such unpleasant circumstances, Jack didn't feel a need to read up on someone he implicitly trusted. But when Danny regressed to his younger self, it dawned on Jack that he knew very little about his friend and teammate's past.

Glancing up from his review of the various papers, he noticed his archaeologist waking up. "Good morning, sunshine. Well, actually, it's already six in the evening, but I'm sure you appreciate the sentiment."

Daniel blinked away his extreme grogginess and fought his awkward limbs to sit up. "How long have I been asleep?" he queried, squinting around for his glasses. Jack handed them to him.

"About two days."

"_Wow_. Well, is everything okay? I mean, with the base? Any uprisings by Qingu's guards or—"

"Everything's fine. We're helping the Jaffa understand about the Goa'uld and claim their freedom and nobody's invaded Earth…today. We don't know what'll happen tomorrow."

Danny nodded and stared thoughtfully into space, which prompted Jack to bring up the file.

"You never told me you were a bona fide genius."

"Huh?"

Jack looked back down at the papers. "Let's see, you graduated high school a couple months after your sixteenth birthday and promptly _triple_ majored in archaeology, anthropology, and linguistics at Stanford—where you got a full ride scholarship. After graduating in only four years, you somehow managed to skip doing a Masters in _any_ of those and just went on to graduate work at the Egyptian Institute for Archeology. Can I assume you speak Arabic?"

Daniel blushed. He didn't like to talk about his intelligence. "Arabic was one of my first languages. I was born in America but raised in Egypt until my parents died; my…nanny—" He seemed extremely embarrassed to admit to having had a nanny. "—spoke to me in Egyptian Arabic. But Jack, if you want a real genius, Sam is _way_ smarter than I am. I've read some of the work she did in theoretical physics and it's amazing stuff."

"You understood what she wrote?"

"I got the gist after talking with her about it."

Jack rolled his eyes and closed the file. How, after all his earlier protestations, had he got stuck with two scientists on a team of only four people? And how had he come to like them both so much? _Thank God for Teal'C_, the Colonel thought to himself.

The clicking of heals alerted them both to someone's presence. "You're awake!" Janet said happily, walking into the room. "How are you feeling?" she asked, pulling off her stethoscope and looking around for the sphygmomometer and thermometer.

"Okay. Sore."

"I'll bet. Deep breath."

While she went over him with a fine-toothed comb, Jack excused himself. Sam and General Hammond arrived shortly afterwards and expressed their happiness at Daniel's recovery.

"Teal'C's on P3X-772 with a couple of linguists, using their limited Sumerian skills and his knowledge of Goa'uld to try and help the colony overcome Qingu's former hold on them. They're making some progress and we're pretty hopeful," Sam explained from Danny's bedside. "It isn't easy for them to throw off a yolk they've had this long, but after seeing you practically come back from the dead, they're fairly open-minded to viewing Qingu in a new light."

"As a small side benefit," General Hammond added, "the planet seems to have some naquada available for mining, which we think they might let us have when everything is sorted out."

Danny nodded. "I'd be happy to help with the translating and—"

"_Absolutely not_!" Janet exclaimed, placing her hands on her hips. "You set your recovery back by at least a week with your trip to Chulak. Unless the General gives me a direct order to the contrary, you're not leaving her until I am completely satisfied with your progress and assured that you will be convalescing at home, preferably under the care of Captain Carter, Colonel O'Neil, or Teal'C."

Everyone looked at General Hammond to see if he would contradict Dr. Frasier. He held up his hands in mock surrender. "Far be it for me to interfere in your recovery."

"Hey," Sam said, giving Daniel's hand a quick squeeze before getting up and heading toward the door. "I'm gonna go send Teal'C a message saying you woke up." She turned her attention to Janet. "Do you think he could—when he's not resting—field any questions the other linguists have?"

The doctor grimaced but nodded. "I suppose, but _only_ when he's not resting."

Sam flashed Daniel a beautiful, triumphant smile and left, along with the General who promised to return again soon. Danny heard them greet Jack and another person as the four people entered and exited the infirmary. Soon, Jack was standing in the doorway with a plate of food and a questioning look.

"Can he eat?"

Janet shrugged. "Are you hungry?" she asked her patient.

"I'm famished!"

"Then he can eat. But try to go back to sleep again soon. Your body has a lot of healing to do." She slid out of the room to update his chart and check on Sergeant Lewis, who had recently come down with a very bad case of food poisoning.

Daniel nodded and reached out for the plate which Jack put in his hands. "Um, that's ham, mashed potatoes, and carrots. I'll try to bring in something edible later on. They only had pudding for dessert, and I know you don't like that."

"No," Danny managed through a mouthful, "this is great. Thanks."

While Daniel shoveled food into his mouth, Jack beckoned to someone in the hallway. A nervous looking private walked in and offered the archaeologist a weak smile. He had a pad of paper, pencils, and an eraser in his hands. He kept his distance from the intimidating Colonel, shifting his footing so that he could creep away.

"Danny, this is Private Lowe. I caught him drawing pictures the other day when he was supposed to be on duty and it gave me an idea. How would you like a picture of Sha'uri?"

Daniel stopped the fork halfway to his mouth. "A picture of Sha'uri?"

"Yeah, like the kind a sketch artist might make for the police. The Private does pretty good work, although I'm sure he won't be doing any when he's on duty again. I thought you could describe her and he could do a couple drawings." Jack didn't want to admit that his friend's agonized sobbing only a few days ago had greatly affected him. He knew the pain of losing someone so dear. When he saw Private Lowe's doodles, it reminded him that, while he had photographs and mementos of Charlie, Danny had nothing of Sha'uri. All the younger man had was his memory, and that seemed to cause him an awful lot of anguish.

"I don't think I could do her justice, Jack. How can I explain her features well enough for him to draw them? How could he truly capture her likeness?"

Jack cocked his head. He understood Daniel's meaning: How could Private Lowe possibly capture Sha'uri's essence? The gentle touch of her hands? Her warm and loving spirit? Her passion? How could he put all the love Danny had for her into a drawing? "It's not going to _be_ her, but it's something to look at—something to help you conjure her up in your mind. I just thought you might like it."

"No—no, it's a good idea." He mulled the idea over in his head and chewed a bite of carrot. "Would you help me tell him? I mean, I don't want to give him some romanticized version."

"Sure, of course."

They looked at Private Lowe expectantly; he immediately opened the drawing notebook and stood ready with a pencil. _Man_, he needed a stiff drink.

"Well," Daniel began, biting his lip and closing his eyes. "She has curly hair—not _tight_ curls, but wavy. It's soft, too." He smiled slightly and a wistful look of longing crossed his face. "And she has the biggest, most beautiful eyes you've ever seen; you can get lost in them for days…"

Jack smiled and leaned against the wall, not at all willing to interrupt his friend's idealized vision. After all, he'd seen a lot of Danny's past recently, with its tragic losses, and witnessed the other man's present, with all its heartbreaking circumstances, and it was nice to finally see him smile. To see him finally remember that the future might hold something better than the past.

Fini

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